•<\^ 

x--:'v 


THE 


PROSE    WORKS 


OF 


MRS,    ELLIS, 


AUTHOR  OF 

"THE    WOMEN    OF    ENGLAND,"    "THE    POETEY   OF   LIFE,"    ETC. 


IN  TWO  VOLUMES. 


VOL.    I. 


NEW    YORK: 

HENRY    G.    LANGLEY,    8    ASTOR    HOUSE. 

1845. 


Stack 


v,l 


CONTENTS. 


VOL.    I. 


THE   WOMEN    OF    ENGLAND. 
THE    DAUGHTERS    OF    ENGLAND. 
THE    WIVES    OF    ENGLAND. 
THE    MOTHERS    OF    ENGLAND. 


ADVERTISEMENT. 


So  universally  acceptable  have  the  various  productions  of  Mrs.  Ellis 
become,  not  only  in  England  but  equally  so  in  our  country,  that  it  is 
believed  a  collected  edition  of  them  could  not  fail  to  ensure  a  welcome 
from  her  many  admirers.  The  themes  selected  in  the  present  volumes, 
and  which  have  so  successfully  engaged  her  pen,  while  invested  with  a 
pleasing  fascination  of  style,  yet  inculcate  sound  lessons  of  practical  wis- 
dom and  moral  virtue,  with  such  earnest  persuasiveness  of  appeal,  that 
few  can  rise  from  their  perusal  unimproved. 


THE 


WOMEN  OF  ENGLAND: 


THEIR 


SOCIAL   DUTIES,  AND   DOMESTIC   HABITS 


AUTHOR  OF  "THE  POETRY  OF  LIFE,"  "PICTURES  OF  PRIVATE  LIFE,"  STC.  KO. 


UNIFORM  EDITION, 

COMPLETE    IN    ONE    VOLUME, 


NEW-YORK: 

HENRY    G.  LANGLEY,  8  ASTOR  HOUSE, 

1844. 


PREFACE. 


AT  a  time  when  the  pressure  of  stir- 
ring  events,  and  the  urgency  of  public 
and  private  interests,  render  it  increas- 
ingly desirable  that  every  variety  of  la- 
bor should  be  attended  with  an  immediate 
and  adequate  return ;  I  feel  that  some 
apology  is  necessary  for  the  presumption 
of  inviting  the  attention  of  the  public  to 
a  work,  in  which  I  have  been  compelled 
to  enter  into  the  apparently  insignificant 
detail  of  familiar  and  ordinary  life. 

The  often- repeated  truth — that  "  trifles 
make  the  sum  of  human  things,"  must 
plead  my  excuse  ;  as  well  as  the  fact, 
that  while  our  libraries  are  stored  with 
books  of  excellent  advice  on  general  con- 
duct, we  have  no  single  work  containing 
the  particular  minutise  of  practical  duty, 
to  which  I  have  felt  myself  called  upon 
to  invite  the  consideration  of  the  young 
women  of  the  present  day.  We  have 
many  valuable  dissertations  upon  female 
character,  as  exhibited  on  the  broad  scale 
of  virtue ;  but  no  direct  definition  of  those 
minor  parts  of  domestic  and  social  inter- 
course, which  strengthen  into  habit,  and 
consequently  form  the  basis  of  moral 
character. 

It  is  worthy  of  remark,  also,  that  these 
writers  have  addressed  their  observations 
almost  exclusively  to  ladies,  or  occasion- 
ally to  those  who  hold  a  subordinate  situ- 
ation under  the  influence  of  ladies;  while 
that  estimable  class  of  females  who  might 
be  more  specifically  denominated  women, 
and  who  yet  enjoy  the  privilege  of  liberal 
education,  with  exemption  from  the  pe- 
cuniary necessities  of  labor,  are  almost 
wholly  overlooked. 


It  is  from  a  high  estimate  of  the  im- 
portance of  this  class  in  upholding  the 
moral  worth  of  our  country,  that  I  have 
addressed  my  remarks  especially  to  them ; 
and  in  order  to  do  so  with  more  effect,  I 
have  ventured  to  penetrate  into  the  famil- 
iar scenes  of  domestic  life,  and  have  thus 
endeavored  to  lay  bare  some  of  the  causes 
which  frequently  lie  hidden  at  the  root  of 
general  conduct. 

Had  I  not  known  before  the  commence- 
ment of  this  work,  its  progress  would  soon 
have  convinced  me,  that  in  order  to  per- 
form my  task  with  candor  and  faithful- 
ness, I  must  renounce  all  idea  of  what  is 
called  fine  writing ;  because  the  very  na- 
ture of  the  duty  I  have  undertaken,  re- 
stricts me  to  the  consideration  of  subjects, 
too  minute  in  themselves,  to  admit  of  their 
being  expatiated  upon  with  eloquence  by 
the  writer — too  familiar  to  produce  upon 
the  reader  any  startling  effect.  Had  I 
even  felt  within  myself  a  capability  for 
treating  any  subject  in  this  manner,  I 
should  have  been  willing  in  this  instance 
to  resign  all  opportunity  of  such  display, 
if,  by  so  doing,  I  could  more  clearly  point 
out  to  my  countrywomen,  by  what  means 
they  may  best  meet  that  pressing  exigen- 
cy of  the  times,  which  so  urgently  de- 
mands a  fresh  exercise  of  moral  power 
on  their  part,  to  win  back  to  the  homes  of 
England  the  boasted  felicity  for  which 
they  once  were  famed. 

Anxious  as  I  am  to  avoid  the  charge  of 
unnecessary  trifling  on  a  subject  so  seri- 
ous as  the  moral  worth  of  the  women  of 
England,  there  is  beyond  this  a  consider- 
ation of  far  higher  importance,  to  which 


PREFACE. 


I  would  invite  the  candid  attention  of  the 
serious  part  of  the  public,  while  I  offer, 
what  appears  to  me  a  sufficient  apology, 
for  having  written  a  book  on  the  subject 
of  morals,  without  having  made  it  strictly 
religious.  I  should  be  sorry  indeed,  if, 
by  so  doing,  I  brought  upon  myself  the 
suspicion  of  yielding  for  one  moment  to 
the  belief  that  there  is  any  other  sure 
foundation  for  good  morals,  than  correct 
religious  principle ;  but  I  do  believe,  that, 
with  the  Divine  blessing,  a  foundation 
may  be  laid  in  early  life,  before  the  heart 
has  been  illuminated  by  Divine  truth,  or 
has  experienced  its  renovating  power,  for 
those  domestic  habits,  and  relative  duties, 
which  in  after  life  will  materially  assist 
the  development  of  the  Christian  charac- 
ter. And  I  am  the  more  convinced  of 
this,  because  we  sometimes  see,  in  sincere 
and  devoted  Christians,  such  peculiarities 
of  conduct  as  materially  hinder  their 
usefulness — such  early-formed  habits,  as 
they  themselves  would  be  glad  to  escape 
from,  but  which  continue  to  cling  around 
them  in  their  earthly  course,  like  the 
clustering  of  weeds  in  the  traveller's 
path. 

It  may  perhaps  more  fully  illustrate 
my  view  of  this  important  subject  to  say, 
that  those  who  would  train  up  young  peo- 
ple without  the  cultivation  of  moral  hab- 
its, trusting  solely  to  the  future  influence 
of  religion  upon  their  hearts,  are  like 


mariners,  who,  while  they  wait  for  their 
bark  to  be  safely  guided  out  to  sea,  allow 
their  sails  to  swing  idly  in  the  wind,  their 
cordage  to  become  entangled,  and  the 
general  outfit  of  their  vessel  to  suffer  in- 
jury and  decay ;  so  that  when  the  pilot 
comes  on  board  they  lose  much  of  the 
advantage  of  his  services,  and  fail  to  de- 
rive the  anticipated  benefit  from  his  pres- 
ence. 

All  that  I  would  venture  to  recommend 
with  regard  to  morals,  is,  that  the  order 
and  right  government  of  the  vessel  should, 
as  far  as  is  possible,  be  maintained,  so 
that  when  the  hope  of  better  and  surer 
guidance  is  realized,  and  the  heavenly 
Pilot  in  his  own  good  time  arrives,  all 
things  may  be  ready — nothing  out  of  or- 
der, and  nothing  wanting,  for  a  safe  and 
prosperous  voyage. 

It  is  therefore  solely  to  the  cultivation 
of  habits  that  I  have  confined  my  atten- 
tion— to  the  minor  morals  of  domestic  life. 
And  I  have  done  this,  because  there  are 
so  many  abler  pens  than  mine  employed 
in  teaching  and  enforcing  the  essential 
truths  of  religion ;  because  there  is  an 
evident  tendency  in  society,  as  it  exists  in 
the  present  day,  to  overlook  these  minor 
points ;  and  because  it  is  impossible  for 
them  to  be  neglected,  without  serious  in- 
jury to  the  Christian  character. 

SARAH  STICKNEY  ELLIS. 
PBNTONVILLI,  Nov.  1838. 


THE 


WOMEN    OF  ENGLAND. 


CHAPTER  I. 

|   CHARACTERISTICS  OF  THE  WOMEN  OF  ENGLAND. 

EVERT  country  has  its  peculiar  character- 
istics, not  only  of  climate  and  scenery,  of 
public  institutions,  government,  and  laws  ; 
but  every  country  has  also  its  moral  charac- 
teristics, upon  which  is  founded  its  true  title 
to  a  station,  either  high  or  low,  in  the  scale 
of  nations. 

The  national  characteristics  of  England 
are  the  perpetual  boast  of  her  patriotic  sons ; 
and  there  is  one  especially  which  it  behooves 
all  British  subjects  not  only  to  exult  in,  but  to 
cherish  and  maintain.  Leaving  the  justice 
of  her  laws,  the  extent  of  her  commerce,  and 
the  amount  of  her  resources,  to  the  orator, 
the  statesman,  and  the  political  economist, 
there  yet  remains  one  of  the  noblest  features 
in  her  national  character,  which  may  not  im- 
properly be  regarded  as  within  the  compass 
of  a  woman's  understanding,  and  the  prov- 
ince of  a  woman's  pen.  It  is  the  domestic 
character  of  England — the  home  comforts, 
and  fireside  virtues  for  which  she  is  so  justly 
celebrated.  These  I  hope  to  be  able  to  speak 
of  without  presumption,  as  intimately  asso- 
ciated with,  and  dependent  upon,  the  moral 
feelings  and  habits  of  the  women  of  this  fa- 
vored country. 

It  is  therefore  in  reference  to  these  alone 
that  I  shall  endeavor  to  treat  the  subject  of 
England's  nationality  ;  and  in  order  to  do 
this  with  more  precision,  it  is  necessary  to 
draw  the  line  of  observation  within  a  nar- 
rower circle,  and  to  describe  what  are  the 
i  characteristics  of  the  women  of  England.  I 
;  ought,  perhaps,  in  strict  propriety,  to  say 


what  were  their  characteristics ;  because  I 
would  justify  the  obtrusiveness  of  a  work 
like  this  by  first  premising  that  the  women 
of  England  are  deteriorating  in  their  moral 
character,  and  that  false  notions  of  refine- 
ment are  rendering  them  less  influential,  less 
useful,  and  less  happy  than  they  were. 

In  speaking  of  what  English  women  were, 
I  would  not  be  understood  to  refer  to  what 
they  were  a  century  ago.  Facilities  in  the 
way  of  mental  improvement  have  greatly  in- 
creased during  this  period.  In  connection 
with  moral  discipline,  these  facilities  are  in- 
valuable ;  but  I  consider  the  two  excellences 
as  having  been  combined  in  the  greatest  per- 
fection in  the  general  average  of  women  who 
have  now  attained  to  middle,  or  rather  ad- 
vanced age.  When  the  cultivation  of  the 
mental  faculties  had  so  far  advanced  as  to 
take  precedence  of  the  moral,  by  leaving  no 
time  for  domestic  usefulness,  and  the  practice 
of  personal  exertion  in  the  way  of  promoting 
general  happiness,  the  character  of  the  wo- 
men of  England  assumed  a  different  aspect, 
which  is  now  beginning  to  tell  upon  society 
in  the  sickly  sensibilities,  the  feeble  frames, 
and  the  useless  habits  of  the  rising  generation. 

In  stating  this  humiliating  fact,  I  must  be 
blind  indeed  to  the  most  cheering  aspect  of 
modern  society,  not  to  perceive  that  there 
are  signal  instances  of  women  who  carry 
about  with  them  into  every  sphere  of  domes- 
tic duty,  even  the  most  humble  and  obscure, 
the  accomplishments  and  refinements  of  mod- 
ern education ;  and  who  deem  it  rather  an 
honor  than  a  degradation  to  be  permitted  to 
add  to  the  sum  of  human  happiness,  by  dif- 
fusing the  embellishments  of  mind  and  man- 


G 


CHARACTERISTICS  OF 


ners  over  the  homely  and  familiar  aspect  of 
every-day  existence. 

Such,  however,  do  not  constitute  the  ma- 
jority of  the  female  population  of  Great 
Britain.  By  far  the  greater  portion  of  the 
young  ladies  (for  they  are  no  longer  women) 
of  the  present  day,  are  distinguished  by  a 
morbid  listlessness  of  mind  and  body,  except 
when  under  the  influence  of  stimulus,  a  con- 
stant pining  for  excitement,  and  an  eagerness 
to  escape  from  every  thing  like  practical  and 
individual  duty.  Of  course,  I  speak  of  those 
whose  minds  are  not  under  the  influence  of 
religious  principle.  Would  that  the.  excep- 
tion could  extend  to  all  who  profess  to  be 
governed  by  this  principle ! 

Gentle,  inoffensive,  delicate,  and  passively 
amiable  as  many  young  ladies  are,  it  seems 
an  ungracious  task  to  attempt  to  rouse  them 
from  their  summer  dream ;  and  were  it  not 
that  wintry  days  will  come,  and  the  surface 
of  life  be  ruffled,  and  the  mariner,  even  she 
who  steers  the  smallest  bark,  be  put  upon  the 
inquiry  for  what  port  she  is  really  bound — 
were  it  not  that  the  cry  of  utter  helplessness 
is  of  no  avail  in  rescuing  from  the  waters  of 
affliction,  and  the  plea  of  ignorance  unheard 
upon  the  far-extending  and  deep  ocean  of 
experience,  and  the  question  of  accounta- 
bility perpetually  sounding,  like  the  voice  of 
a  warning  spirit,  above  the  storms  and  the 
billows  of  this  lower  world — I  would  be  one 
of  the  very  last  to  call  the  dreamer  back  to 
a  consciousness  of  present  things.  But  this 
state  of  listless  indifference,  my  sisters,  must 
not  be.  You  have  deep  responsibilities ; 
you  have  urgent  claims ;  a  nation's  moral 
worth  is  in  your  keeping.  Let  us  inquire 
then  in  what  way  it  may  be  best  preserved. 
Let  us  consider  what  you  are,  and  have 
been,  and  by  what  peculiarities  of  feeling  and 
habit  you  have  been  able  to  throw  so  much 
additional  weight  into  the  scale  of  your 
country's  worth. 

In  order  to  speak  with  precision  of  the 
characteristics  of  any  class  of  people,  it  is 
necessary  to  confine  our  attention  as  much 
as  possible  to  that  portion  of  the  class  where 
such  characteristics  are  most  prominent ; 


and,  avoiding  the  two  extremes  where  cir- 
cumstances not  peculiar  to  that  class  are 
supposed  to  operate,  to  take  the  middle  or 
intervening  portion  as  a  specimen  of  the 
whole. 

Napoleon  Bonaparte  was  accustomed  to 
speak  of  the  English  nation  as  a  "  nation  of 
shopkeepers ;"  and  when  we  consider  the 
number,  the  influence,  and  the  respectability 
of  that  portion  of  the  inhabitants  who  are, 
directly  or  indirectly,  connected  with  our 
trade  and  merchandise,  it  does  indeed  ap- 
pear to  constitute  the  mass  of  English  so- 
ciety, and  may  justly  be  considered  as  ex- 
hibiting the  most  striking  and  unequivocal 
proofs  of  what  are  the  peculiar  characteris- 
tics of  the  people  of  England.  It  is  not 
therefore  from  the  aristocracy  of  the  land 
that  the  characteristics  of  English  women 
should  be  taken ;  because  the  higher  the 
rank,  and  the  greater  the  facilities  of  com- 
munication with  other  countries,  the  more 
prevalent  are  foreign  manners,  and  modes  of 
thinking  and  acting  common  to  that  class  of 
society  in  other  countries.  Neither  is  it  en- 
tirely among  the  indigent  and  most  laborious 
of  the  community,  that  we  can  with  pro- 
priety look  for  those  strong  features  of  na- 
tionality, which  stamp  the  moral  character 
of  different  nations  ;  because  the  urgency  of 
mere  physical  wants,  and  the  pressure  of 
constant  and  necessary  labor,  naturally  in- 
duce  a  certain  degree  of  resemblance  in  so- 
cial feelings  and  domestic  habits,  among 
people  similarly  circumstanced,  to  whatever 
country  they  may  belong. 

In  looking  around,  then,  upon  our  "  nation 
of  shopkeepers,"  we  readily  perceive  that  by 
dividing  society  into  three  classes,  as  regards 
what  is  commonly  called  rank,  the  middle 
class  must  include  so  vast  a  portion  of  the 
intelligence  and  moral  power  of  the  country 
at  large,  that  it  may  not  improperly  be  desig- 
nated the  pillar  of  our  nation's  strength,  its 
base  being  the  important  class  of  the  labo- 
rious poor,  and  its  rich  and  highly  ornamental 
capital,  the  ancient  nobility  of  the  land.  In  no 
other  country  is  society  thus  beautifully  pro- 
portioned, and  England  should  beware  of  any 


THE  WOMEN  OF  ENGLAND. 


deviation  from  the  order  and  symmetry  of 
her  national  column. 

There  never  was  a  more  short-sighted 
view  of  society,  than  that  by  which  the  wo- 
men of  our  country  have  lately  learned  to 
look  with  envious  eyes  upon  their  superiors 
in  rank,  to  rival  their  attainments,  to  imitate 
their  manners,  and  to  pine  for  the  luxuries 
they  enjoy  ;  and  consequently  to  look  down 
with  contempt  upon  the  appliances  and 
means  of  humbler  happiness.  The  women 
of  England  were  once  better  satisfied  with 
that  instrumentality  of  Divine '  wisdom  by 
which  they  were  placed  in  their  proper 
sphere.  They  were  satisfied  to  do  with 
their  own  hands  what  they  now  leave  un- 
done, or  repine  that  they  cannot  have  others 
to  do  for  them. 

A  system  of  philosophy  was  once  promul- 
gated in  France,  by  which  it  was  attempted 
to  be  proved  that  so  much  of  the  power  and 
the  cleverness  of  man  was  attributable  to  his 
hand,  that  but  for  a  slight  difference  in  the 
formation  of  this  organ  in  some  of  the  infe- 
rior animals,  they  would  have  been  entitled  to 
rank  in  the  same  class  with  him.  Whatever 
may  be  said  of  the  capabilities  of  man's  hand, 
I  believe  the  feminine  qualification  of  being 
able  to  use  the  hand  willingly  and  well,  has 
a  great  deal  to  do  with  the  moral  influence 
of  woman.  The  personal  services  she  is  thus 
enabled  to  render,  enhance  her  value  in  the 
domestic  circle,  and  when  such  services  are 
performed  with  the  energy  of  a  sound  under- 
standing, and  the  grace  of  an  accomplished 
mind — above  all,  with  the  disinterested  kind- 
ness of  a  generous  heart — they  not  only  dig- 
nify the  performer,  but  confer  happiness,  as 
well  as  obligation.  Indeed,  so  great  is  the 
charm  of  personal  attentions  arising  sponta- 
neously from  the  heart,  that  women  of  the 
highest  rank  in  society,  and  far  removed  from 
the  necessity  of  individual  exertion,  are  fre- 
quently observed  to  adopt  habits  of  personal 
kindness  .towards  others,  not  only  as  the 
surest  means  of  giving  pleasure,  but  as  a 
natural  and  grateful  relief  to  the  overflowings 
of  their  own  affections. 

There  is  a  principle  in  woman's  love,  that 


renders  it  impossible  for  her  to  be  satisfied 
without  actually  doing  something  for  the  ob- 
ject of  her  regard.  I  speak  only  of  woman 
in  her  refined  and  elevated  character.  Vani- 
ty can  satiate  itself  with  admiration,  and 
selfishness  can  feed  upon  services  received ; 
but  woman's  love  is  an  overflowing  and  inex- 
haustible fountain,  that  must  be  perpetually 
imparting  from  the  source  of  its  own  blessed- 
ness. It  needs  but  slight  experience  to  know, 
that  the  mere  act  of  loving  our  fellow-crea- 
tures does  little  towards  the  promotion  of 
their  happiness.  The  human  heart  is  not  so 
credulous  as  to  continue  to  believe  in  affec- 
tion without  practical  proof.  Thus  the  inter- 
change of  mutual  kind  offices  begets  a  confi- 
dence which  cannot  be  made  to  grow  out  of 
any  other  foundation  ;  and  while  gratitude 
is  added  to  the  connecting  link,  the  character 
on  each  side  is  strengthened  by  the  personal 
energy  required  for  the  performance  of  every 
duty. 

There  may  exist  great  sympathy,  kind- 
ness, and  benevolence  of  feeling,  without  the 
power  of  bringing  any  of  these  emotions  into 
exercise  for  the  benefit  of  others.  They  exist 
as  emotions  only.  And  thus  the  means  which 
appear  to  us  as  the  most  gracious  and  benig- 
nant of  any  that  could  have  been  adopted  by 
our  heavenly  Father  for  rousing  us  into  ne- 
cessary exertion,  are  permitted  to  die  away, 
fruitless  and  unproductive,  in  the  breast, 
where  they  ought  to  have  operated  as  a 
blessing  and  means  of  happiness  to  others. 

It  is  not  uncommon  to  find  negatively 
amiable  individuals,  who  sink  under  a  weight 
of  indolence,  and  suffer  from  innate  selfish- 
ness a  gradual  contraction  of  mind,  perpetu- 
ally lamenting  their  own  inability  to  do  good. 
It  would  be  ungenerous  to  doubt  their  sin- 
cerity in  these  regrets.  We  therefore  only 
conclude  that  the  want  of  habits  of  personal 
usefulness  has  rendered  them  mentally  im- 
becile, and  physically  inert ;  whereas,  had 
the  same  individuals  been  early  accustomed 
to  bodily  exertion,  promptly  and  cheerfully 
performed  on  the  spur  of  the  moment,  with- 
out waiting  to  question  whether  it  was  agree- 
able or  not,  the  very  act  of  exertion  would 


8 


CHARACTERISTICS  OF 


have  become  a  pleasure,  and  the  benevolent 
purpose  to  which  such  exertions  might  be 
applied,  a  source  of  the  highest  enjoyment 

Time  was  when  the  women  of  England 
were  accustomed,  almost  from  their  child- 
hood, to  the  constant  employment  of  their 
hands.  It  might  be  sometimes  in  elaborate 
works  of  fancy,  now  ridiculed  for  their  want 
of  taste,  and  still  more  frequently  in  house- 
hold avocations,  now  fallen  into  disuse  from 
their  incompatibility  with  modern  refinement 
I  cannot  speak  with  unqualified  praise  of  all 
the  objects  on  which  they  bestowed  their 
attention ;  but,  if  it  were  possible,  I  would 
write  in  characters  of  gold  the  indisputable 
fact,  that  the  habits  of  industry  and  personal 
exertion  thus  acquired,  gave  them  a  strength 
and  dignity  of  character,  a  power  of  useful- 
ness, and  a  capability  of  doing*  good,  which 
the  higher  theories  of  modern  education  fail 
to  impart  They  were  in  some  instances 
less  qualified  for  travelling  on  the  continent 
without  an  interpreter,  but  the  women  of 
whom  I  am  speaking  seldom  went  abroad. 
Their  sphere  of  action  was  at  their  own  fire- 
sides, and  the  world  in  which  they  moved 
was  one  where  pleasure  of  the  highest, 
purest  order,  naturally  and  necessarily  arises 
out  of  acts  of  duty  faithfully  performed. 

Perhaps  it  may  be  necessary  to  be  more 
specific  in  describing  the  class  of  women  to 
which  this  work  relates.  It  is,  then,  strictly 
speaking,  to  those  who  belong  to  that  great 
mass  of  the  population  of  England  which  is 
connected  with  trade  and  manufactures; — 
!  or,  in  order  to  make  the  application  more  di- 
rect, to  that  portion  of  it  who  are  restricted 
to  the  services  of  from  one  to  four  domestics, 
—who,  on  the  one  hand,  enjoy  the  advan- 
tages of  a  liberal  education,  and,  on  the  other, 
have  no  pretension  to  family  rank.  It  is, 
however,  impossible  but  that  many  devia- 
tions from  these  lines  of  demarkation  must 
occur,  in  consequence  of  the  great  change  in 
their  pecuniary  circumstances,  which  many 
families  during  a  short  period  experience, 
and  the  indefinite  order  of  rank  and  station  in 
•which  the  elegances  of  life  are  enjoyed,  or 
its  privations  endured.  There  is  also  this 


peculiarity  to  be  taken  into  account,  in  our 
view  of  English  society,  that  the  acquisition 
of  wealth,  with  the  advantages  it  procures,  is 
all  that  is  necessary  for  advancement  to 
aristocratic  dignity  ;  while,  on  the  other  hand, 
so  completely  is  the  nation  dependent  upon 
her  commercial  resources,  that  it  is  no  un- 
common thing  to  see  individuals  who  lately 
ranked  among  the  aristocracy,  suddenly 
driven,  by  the  failure  of  some  bank  or  some 
mercantile  speculation,  into  the  lowest  walks 
of  life,  and  compelled  to  mingle  with  the  la- 
borious poor. 

These  facts  are  strong  evidence  in  favor  of 
a  system  of  conduct  that  would  enable  all 
women  to  sink  gracefully,  and  without  mur- 
muring against  Providence,  into  a  lower 
grade  of  society.  It  is  easy  to  learn  to  enjoy, 
but  it  is  not  easy  to  learn  to  suffer. 

Any  woman  of  respectable  education,  pos- 
sessing a  well-regulated  mind,  might  move 
with  ease  and  dignity  into  a  higher  sphere 
than  that  to  which  she  had  been  accustomed ; 
but  few  women  whose  hands  have  been  idle 
all  their  lives,  can  feel  themselves  compelled 
to  do  the  necessary  labor  of  a  household, 
without  a  feeling  of  indescribable  hardship, 
too  frequently  productive  of  a  secret  mur- 
muring against  the  instrumentality  by  which 
she  was  reduced  to  such  a  lot 

It  is  from  the  class  of  females  above  de- 
scribed, that  we  naturally  look  for  the  highest 
tone  of  moral  feeling,  because  they  are  at  the 
same  time  removed  from  the  pressing  neces- 
sities of  absolute  poverty,  and  admitted  to 
the  intellectual  privileges  of  the  great ;  and 
thus,  while  they  enjoy  every  facility  in  the 
way  of  acquiring  knowledge,  it  is  their  still 
higher  privilege  not  to  be  exempt  from  the 
domestic  duties  which  call  forth  the  best  en- 
ergies of  the  female  character. 

Where  domestics  abound,  and  there  is  a 
hired  hand  for  every  kindly  office,  it  would 
be  a  work  of  supererogation  for  the  mistress 
of  the  house  to  step  forward,  and  assist  with 
her  own  ;  but  where  domestics  are  few,  and 
the  individuals  who  compose  the  household 
are  thrown  upon  the  consideration  of  the 
mothers,  wives,  and  daughters  for  their  daily 


THE  WOMEN  OF  ENGLAND. 


9 


comfort,  innumerable  channels  are  opened 
for  the  overflow  of  those  floods  of  human 
kindness,  which  it  is  one  of  the  happiest  and 
most  ennobling  duties  of  woman  to  administer 
to  the  weary  frame,  and  to  pour  into  the 
wounded  mind. 

It  is  perhaps  the  nearest  approach  we  can 
make  towards  any  thing  like  a  definition  of 
what  is  most  striking  in  the  characteristics  of 
the  women  of  England,  to  say,  that  the  nature 
of  their  domestic  circumstances  is  such  as  to 
invest  their  characters  with  the  threefold  re- 
commendation of  promptitude  in  action,  ener- 
gy of  thought,  and  benevolence  of  feeling.  With 
all  the  responsibilities  of  family  comfort  and 
social  enjoyment  resting  upon  them,  and  un- 
aided by  those  troops  of  menials  who  throng 
the  halls  of  the  affluent  and  the  great,  they 
are  kept  alive  to  the  necessity  of  making 
their  own  personal  exertions  conducive  to 
the  great  end  of  promoting  the  happiness  of 
those  around  them.  They  cannot  sink  into 
supineness,  or  suffer  any  of  their  daily  duties 
to  be  neglected,  but  some  beloved  member 
of  the  household  is  made  to  feel  the  conse- 
quences, by  enduring  inconveniences  which 
it  is  alike  their  pride  and  their  pleasure  to 
remove.  The  frequently  recurring  avoca- 
tions of  domestic  life  admit  of  no  delay. 
When  the  performance  of  any  kindly  office 
has  to  be  asked  for,  solicited,  and  re-solicited, 
it  loses  more  than  half  its  charm.  It  is  there- 
fore strictly  in  keeping  with  the  fine  tone  of 
an  elevated  character  to  be  beforehand  with 
expectation,  and  thus  to  show,  by  the  most 
delicate  yet  most  effectual  of  all  human 
means,  that  the  object  of  attention,  even  when 
unheard  and  unseen,  has  been  the  subject  of 
kind  and  affectionate  solicitude. 

By  experience  in  these  apparently  minute 
affairs,  a  woman  of  kindly  feeling  and  prop- 
erly disciplined  mind,  soon  learns  to  regu- 
late her  actions  also  according  to  the  prin- 
ciples of  true  wisdom,  and  hence  arises  that 
energy  of  thought  for  which  the  women  of 
England  are  so  peculiarly  distinguished. 
Every  passing  event,  however  insignificant 
to  the  eye  of  the  world,  has  its  crisis,  every 
occurrence  its  emergency,  every  cause  its 


effect ;  and  upon  these  she  has  to  calculate 
with  precision,  or  the  machinery  of  house- 
hold comfort  is  arrested  in  its  movements, 
and  thrown  into  disorder. 

Woman,  however,  would  but  ill  supply 
the  place  appointed  her  by  Providence,  were 
she  endowed  with  no  other  faculties  than 
those  of  promptitude  in  action  and  energy  of 
thought.  Valuable  as  these  may  be,  they 
would  render  her  but  a  cold  and  cheerless 
companion,  without  the  kindly  affections  and 
tender  offices  that  sweeten  human  life.  It  is 
a  high  privilege,  then,  which  the  women  of 
England  enjoy,  to  be  necessarily,  and  by  the 
force  of  circumstances,  thrown  upon  their 
affections,  for  the  rule  of  their  conduct  in 
daily  life.  "  What  shall  I  do  to  gratify  myself 
— to  be  admired — or  to  vary  the  tenor  of  my 
existence  1"  are  not  the  questions  which  a 
woman  of  right  feelings  asks  on  first  awak- 
ing to  the  avocations  of  the  day.  Much 
more  congenial  to  the  highest  attributes  of 
woman's  character,  are  inquiries  such  as 
these  :  "  How  shall  I  endeavor  through  this 
day  to  turn  the  time,  the  health,  and  the 
means  permitted  me  to  enjoy,  to  the  best  ac- 
count 1 — Is  any  one  sick  1  I  must  visit  their 
chamber  without  delay,  and  try  to  give  their 
apartment  an  air  of  comfort,  by  arranging 
such  things  as  the  wearied  nurse  may  not 
have  thought  of.  Is  any  one  about  to  set  off 
on  a  journey  1  I  must  see  that  the  early  meal 
is  spread,  or  prepare  it  with  my  own  hands, 
in  order  that  the  servant,  who  was  working 
late  last  night,  may  profit  by  unbroken  rest 
Did  I  fail  in  what  was  kind  or  considerate  to 
any  of  the  family  yesterday?  I  will  meet  her 
this  morning  with  a  cordial  welcome,  and 
show,  in  the  most  delicate  way  I  can,  that  I 
am  anxious  to  atone  for  the  past.  Was  any 
one  exhausted  by  the  last  day's  exertion  ?  I 
will  be  an  hour  before  them  this  morning, 
and  let  them  see  that  their  labor  is  so  much 
in  advance.  Or,  if  nothing  extraordinary  oc- 
curs to  claim  my  attention,  I  will  meet  the 
family  with  a  consciousness  that,  being  the 
least  engaged  of  any  member  of  it,  I  am  con- 
sequently the  most  at  liberty  to  devote  myself 
to  the  general  good  of  the  whole,  by  cultiva- 


10 


CHARACTERISTICS  OF 


ting  cheerful  conversation,  adapting  myself  to 
the  prevailing  tone  of  feeling,  and  leading 
those  who  are  least  happy,  to  think  and  speak 
of  what  will  make  them  more  so." 

Who  can  believe  that  days,  months,  and 
years  spent  in  a  continual  course  of  thought 
and  action  similar  to  this,  will  not  produce  a 
powerful  effect  upon  the  character,  and  not 
only  upon  the  individual  who  thinks  and  acts 
alone,  but  upon  all  to  whom  her  influence 
extends?  In  short,  the  customs  of  English 
society  have  so  constituted  women  the  guar- 
dians of  the  comfort  of  their  homes,  that,  like 
the  Vestals  of  old,  they  cannot  allow  the  lamp 
they  cherish  to  be  extinguished,  or  to  fail  for 
want  of  oil,  without  an  equal  share  of  degra- 
dation attaching  to  their  names. 

In  other  countries,  where  the  domestic 
lamp  is  voluntarily  put  out,  in  order  to  allow 
the  women  to  resort  to  the  opera,  or  the 
public   festival,  they  are  not  only  careless 
about  their  home  comforts,  but  necessarily 
ignorant  of  the  high  degree  of  excellence  to 
which   they  might  be  raised.    In  England 
there  is  a  kind  of  science  of  good  household 
management,  which,  if  it  consisted  merely  in 
keeping  the  house  respectable  in  its  physical 
character,  might  be  left  to  the  effectual  work- 
ing out  of  hired  hands  ;  but,  happily  for  the 
women  of  England,  there  is  a  philosophy  in 
this  science,  by  which  all  their  highest  and 
best  feelings  are  called  into  exercise.    Not 
only  must  the  house  be  neat  and  clean,  but 
it  must  be  so  ordered  as  to  suit  the  tastes  ol 
all,  as  far  as  may  be,  without  annoyance  or 
offence  to  any.    Not  only  must  a  constant 
system  of  activity  be  established,  but  peace 
must  be  preserved,  or  happiness  will  be  de- 
stroyed.   Not  only  must  elegance  be  called 
in,  to  adorn  and  beautify  the  whole,  but  stric' 
integrity  must  be  maintained  by  the  minutes 
j  calculation  as  to  lawful  means,  and  self,  and 
j  self-gratification,  must  be  made  the  yielding 
pomt  in  every  disputed  case.    Not  only  mus 
an  appearance  of  outward  order  and  comfort 
be  kept  up,  but  around  every  domestic  seen 
there  must  be  a  strong  wall  of  confidence 
which  no  internal  suspicion  can  undermine 
no  external  enemy  break  through. 


Good  household   management  conducted 
n  this  plan,  is  indeed  a  science  well  worthy  of 
Mention.    It  comprises  so  much,  as  to  invest 
t  with  an  air  of  difficulty  on  the  first  view  ; 
but  no  woman  can  reasonably  complain  of 
ncapability,  because  nature  has  endowed  the 
sex  with  perceptions  so  lively  and  acute,  that 
where  benevolence  is  the  impulse,  and  prin- 
ciple the  foundation  upon  which  they  act, 
xperience  will  soon   teach  them   by  what 
means  they  may  best  accomplish  the  end 
they  have  in  view. 

They  will  soon  learn  by  experience,  that 
selfishness  produces  selfishness,  that  indo- 
.ence  increases  with  every  hour  of  indul- 
gence, that  what  is  left  undone  because  it  is 
difficult  to-day,  will  be  doubly  difficult  to- 
morrow ;  that  kindness  and  compassion,  to 
answer  any  desirable  end,  must  one  be  prac- 
ticable, the  other  delicate,  in  its  nature  ;  that 
affection  must  be  kept  alive  by  ministering  to 
its  necessities ;  and,  above  all,  that  religion 
must  be  recommended  by  consistency  of 
character  and  conduct 

It  is  the  strong  evidence  of  truths  like 
these,  wrought  out  of  their  daily  experience, 
and  forced  upon  them  as  principles  of  action 
which  renders  the  women  of  England  wha 
they  are,  or  rather  were,  and  which  fits  them 
for  becoming  able  instruments  in  the  promo- 
tion of  public  and  private  good  ;  for  all  mus 
allow,  that  it  is  to  the  indefatigable  exertions 
and  faithful  labors  of  women  of  this  class 
that  England  chiefly  owes  the  support  o 
some  of  her  noblest  and  most  benevolent  in 
stitutions ;  while  it  is  to  their  unobtrusiv 
and  untiring  efforts,  that  the  unfortunate  am 
afflicted  often  are  indebted  for  the  only  sym 
pathy — the  only  kind  attention  that  eve 
reaches  their  obscure  abodes,  or  diffuse, 
cheerfulness  and  comfort  through  the  soli 
tary  chambers  of  suffering  and  sickness — the 
only  aid  that  relieves  the  victims  of  penur; 
and  want — the  only  consolation  that  eve 
visits  the  desolate  and  degraded  in  their 
wretchedness  and  despair. 

I  acknowledge  there  are  noble  instances  in 
the  annals  of  English  history,  and  perhaps 
never  more  than  at  the  present  day,  o; 


THE  WOMEN  OF  ENGLAND. 


11 


women  of  the  highest  rank  devoting  their 
time  and  their  property  to  objects  of  benevo- 
lence ;  but  from  the  very  nature  of  their 
early  habits  and  domestic  circumstances, 
they  are  upon  the  whole  less  fitted  for  prac- 
tical usefulness,  than  those  who  move  within 
a  lower  sphere.  I  am  also  fully  sensible  of 
the  charities  which  abound  among  the  poor  ; 
and  often  have  I  been  led  to  compare  the 
actual  merit  of  the  magnificent  bestowments 
of  those  who  know  not  one  comfort  the  less, 
with  that  of  the  poor  man's  offering,  and  the 
widow's  mite.  Still  my  opinion  remains  the 
same,  that  in  the  situation  of  the  middle 
class  of  women  in  England,  are  combined 
advantages  in  the  formation  of  character,  to 
which  they  owe  much  of  their  distinction, 
and  their  country  much  of  her  moral  worth. 

The  true  English  woman,  accustomed  to 
bear  about  with  her  her  energies  for  daily 
use,  her  affections  for  daily  happiness,  and 
her  delicate  perceptions  for  hourly  aids  in  the 
discovery  of  what  is  best  to  do  or  to  leave 
undone,  by  this  means  obtains  an  insight  into 
human  nature,  a  power  of  adaptation,  and  a 
readiness  of  application  of  the  right  means  to 
the  desired  end,  which  not  only  render  her 
the  most  valuable  friend,  but  the  most  de- 
lightful of  fireside  companions,  because  she 
is  thus  enabled  to  point  the  plainest  moral, 
and  adorn  the  simplest  tale,  with  all  those 
freshly-formed  ideas  which  arise  out  of  actual 
experience  and  the  contemplation  of  unvar- 
nished truth. 

Among  their  other  characteristic?,  the  wo- 
men of  England  are  freely  spoken  of  as  ple- 
beian in  their  manners,  and  cold  in  their 
affections  ;  but  their  unpolished  and  occa- 
sionally embarrassed  manner,  as  frequently 
conceals  a  delicacy  that  imparts  the  most  re- 
fined and  elevated  sentiment  to  their  familiar 
acts  of  duty  and  regard ;  and  those  who 
know  them  best  are  compelled  to  acknow- 
ledge that  all  the  noblest  passions,  the  deep- 
est feelings,  and  the  highest  aspirations  of 
humanity,  may  be  found  within  the  brooding 
quiet  of  an  English  woman's  heart 

There  are  flowers  that  burst  upon  us,  and 
startle  the  eye  with  the  splendor  of  their 


beauty ;  we  gaze  until  we  are  dazzled,  and 
then  turn  away,  remembering  nothing  but 
their  gorgeous  hues.  There  are  others  that 
refresh  the  traveller  by  the  sweetness  they 
diffuse — but  he  has  to  search  for  the  source 
of  his  delight  He  finds  it  imbedded  among 
green  leaves  ;  it  may  be  less  lovely  than  he 
had  anticipated,  in  its  form  and  color,  but  oh, 
how  welcome  is  the  memory  of  that  flower, 
when  the  evening  breeze  is  again  made  fra- 
grant with  its  perfume  ! 

It  is  thus  that  the  unpretending  virtues  of 
the  female  character  force  themselves  upon 
our  regard,  so  that  the  woman  herself  is 
nothing  in  comparison  with  her  attributes, 
and  we  remember  less  the  celebrated  belle, 
than  her  who  made  us  happy. 

Nor  is  it  by  their  frequent  and  faithful  ser- 
vices alone,  that  English  women  are  distin- 
guished. The  greater  proportion  of  them 
were  diligent  and  thoughtful  readers.  It  was 
not  with  them  a  point  of  importance  to  de- 
vour every  book  that  was  written  as  soon  as 
it  came  out.  They  were  satisfied  to  single 
out  the  best,  and,  making  themselves  familiar 
with  every  page,  conversed  with  the  writer 
as  with  a  friend,  and  felt  that  with  minds  su- 
perior, but  yet  congenial  to  their  own,  they 
could  make  friends  indeed.  In  this  manner 
their  solitude  was  cheered,  their  hours  of  la- 
bor sweetened,  and  their  conversation  ren- 
dered at  once  piquant  and  instructive.  This 
was  preserved  from  the  technicalities  of 
common-place  by  the  peculiar  nature  of  their 
social  and  mental  habits.  They  were  accus- 
tomed to  think  for  themselves  ;  and,  deprived 
in  some  measure  of  access  to  what  might  be 
esteemed  the  highest  authorities  in  matters 
of  sentiment  and  taste,  they  drew  their  con- 
clusions from  reasoning,  and  their  reasoning 
from  actual  observation.  It  is  true,  their 
sphere  of  observation  was  microscopic,  com- 
pared with  that  of  the  individual  who  enjoys 
the  means  of  travelling  from  court  to  court, 
and  of  mixing  with  the  polished  society  of 
every  nation  ;  but  an  acute  vision  directed 
to  immediate  objects,  whatever  they  may  be, 
will  often  discover  as  much  of  the  wonders 
of  creation,  and  supply  the  intelligent  mind 


12 


CHARACTERISTICS  OF 


with  food  for  reflection  as  valuable,  as  that 
which  is  the  result  of  a  widely  extended 
view,  where  the  objects,  though  more  nu- 
merous, are  consequently  less  distinct 

Thus  the  domestic  woman,  moving  in  a 
comparatively  limited  circle,  is  not  necessari- 
ly confined  to  a  limited  number  of  ideas,  but 
can  often  expatiate  upon  subjects  of  mere 
local  interest,  with  a  vigor  of  intellect,  a 
freshness  of  feeling,  and  a  liveliness  of  fancy, 
which  create,  in  the  mind  of  the  uninitiated 
stranger,  a  perfect  longing  to  be  admitted 
into  the  home  associations  from  whence  are 
derived  such  a  world  of  amusement,  and  so 
unfailing  a  relief  from  the  severer  duties  of 
life. 

It  is  not  from  the  acquisition  of  ideas,  but 
from  the  application  of  them,  that  conversa- 
tion derives  its  greatest  charm.  Thus  an 
exceedingly  well-informed  talker  may  be  in- 
describably tedious ;  while  one  who  is  com- 
paratively ignorant,  as  regards  mere  facts, 
having  brought  to  bear,  upon  every  subject 
contemplated,  a  lively  imagination  combined 
with  a  sound  judgment,  and  a  memory 
stored,  not  only  with  dates  and  historical 
events,  but  with  strong  and  clear  impressions 
of  familiar  things,  may  rivet  the  attention  of 
his  hearers,  and  startle  them,  for  the  time, 
into  a  distinctness  of  impression  which  im- 
parts a  degree  of  delightful  complacency 
both  to  his  hearers,  and  to  the  entertainer 
himself. 

In  the  exercise  of  this  kind  of  tact,  the 
women  of  England,  when  they  can  be  in- 
duced to  cast  off  their  shyness  and  reserve, 
are  peculiarly  excellent,  and  there  is  conse- 
quently an  originality  in  their  humor,  a  firm- 
ness in  their  reasoning,  and  a  tone  of  delicacy 
in  their  perceptions,  scarcely  to  be  found  else- 
where in  the  same  degree,  and  combined  in 
the  same  manner  ;  nor  should  it  ever  be  for- 
gotten, in  speaking  of  their  peculiar  merits, 
that  the  freshness  and  the  charm  of  their 
conversation  is  reserved  for  their  own  fire- 
sides— for  moments,  when  the  wearied  frame 
is  most  in  need  of  exhilaration,  when  the 
mind  is  thrown  upon  its  own  resources  for 
the  restoration  of  its  exhausted  powers,  and 


when  home  associations  and  home  affections 
are  the  balm  which  the  wounded  spirit 
needs. 

But  above  all  other  characteristics  of  the 
women  of  England,  the  strong  moral  feeling 
pervading  even  their  most  trifling  and  familiar 
actions,  ought  to  be  mentioned  as  most  con- 
ducive to  the  maintenance  of  that  high  place 
which  they  so  justly  claim  in  the  society  of 
their  native  land.  The  apparent  coldness 
and  reserve  of  English  women  ought  only  to 
be  regarded  as  a  means  adopted  for  the  pres- 
ervation of  their  purity  of  mind, — an  evil,  if 
you  choose  to  call  it  so,  but  an  evil  of  so  mild 
a  nature,  in  comparison  with  that  which  it 
wards  off,  that  it  may  with  truth  be  said  to 
"  lean  to  virtue's  side." 

I  have  said  before,  that  the  sphere  of  a 
domestic  woman's  observation  is  microscopic. 
She  is  therefore  sensible  of  defects  within 
that  sphere,  which,  to  a  more  extended  vision, 
would  be  imperceptible.  If  she  looked  abroad 
for  her  happiness,  she  would  be  less  disturb- 
ed by  any  falling  off  at  home.  If  her  interest 
and  her  energies  were  diffused  through  a 
wider  range,  she  would  be  less  alive  to  the 
minuter  claims  upon  her  attention.  It  is  pos- 
sible she  may  sometimes  attach  too  much 
importance  to  the  minutiaB  of  her  own  domes- 
tic world,  especially  when  her  mind  is  imper- 
fectly cultivated  and  informed :  but,  on  the 
other  hand,  there  arises,  from  the  same  cause, 
a  scrupulous  exactness,  a  studious  obser- 
vance of  the  means  of  happiness,  a  delicacy 
of  perception,  a  purity  of  mind,  and  a  digni- 
fied correctness  of  manner,  for  which  the 
women  of  England  are  unrivalled  by  those  of 
any  other  nation. 

By  a  certain  class  of  individuals,  their  gen- 
eral conduct  may  possibly  be  regarded  as  too 
prudish  to  be  strictly  in  keeping  with  enlarged 
and  liberal  views  of  human  life.  These  are 
such  as  object  to  find  the  strict  principles  of 
female  action  carried  out  towards  themselves. 
But  let  every  man  who  disputes  the  right 
foundation  of  this  system  of  conduct,  imagine 
in  the  place  of  the  woman  whose  retiring  shy- 
ness provokes  his  contempt,  his  sister  or  his 
friend :  and,  while  he  substitutes  another  be- 


THE  WOMEN  OF  ENGLAND. 


13 


ing,  similarly  constituted,  for  himself,  he  will 
immediately  percei\-e  that  the  boundary-line 
of  safety,  beyond  which  no  true  friend  of  wo- 
man ever  tempted  her  to  pass,  is  drawn  many 
degrees  within  that  which  he  had  marked 
out  for  his  own  intercourse  with  the  female 
sex.  Nor  is  it  in  the  small  and  separate  de- 
viations from  this  strict  line  of  propriety,  that 
any  great  degree  of  culpability  exists.  Each 
individual  act  may  be  simple  in  itself,  and 
almost  too  insignificant  for  remark ;  it  is  habit 
that  stamps  the  character,  and  custom,  that 
renders  common.  Who  then  can  guard  too 
scrupulously  against  the  first  opening,  and 
almost  imperceptible  change  of  manners,  by 
which  the  whole  aspect  of  domestic  life  would 
be  altered  1  And  who  would  not  rather  that 
English  women  should  be  guarded  by  a  wall 
of  scruples,  than  allowed  to  degenerate  into 
less  worthy  and  less  efficient  supporters  of 
their  country's  moral  worth  ? 

Were  it  only  in  their  intercourse  with  mix- 
ed society  that  English  women  were  distin- 
guished by  this  strict  regard  to  the  proprieties 
of  life,  it  might  with  some  justice  fall  under 
the  ban  of  prudery  ;  but,  happily  for  them,  it 
extends  to  every  sphere  of  action  in  which 
they  move,  discountenancing  vice  in  every 
form,  and  investing  social  duty  with  that 
true  moral  dignity  which  it  ought  ever  to  pos- 
sess. 

I  am  not  ignorant  that  this  can  only  be  con- 
sistently carried  out  under  the  influence  of 
personal  religion.  I  must,  therefore,  be  un- 
derstood to  speak  with  limitations,  and  as 
comparing  my  own  countrywomen  with  those 
of  other  nations — as  acknowledging  melan- 
choly exceptions — and  not  only  fervently  de- 
siring that  every  one  professed  a  religion 
capable  of  leading  them  in  a  more  excellent 
way,  but  that  all  who  do  profess  that  religion 
were  studiously  careful  in  these  minor  points. 
Still  I  do  believe  that  the  women  of  England 
are  not  surpassed  by  those  of  any  other  coun- 
try for  their  clear  perception  of  the  right  and 
the  wrong  of  common  and  familiar  things,  for 
their  reference  to  principle  in  the  ordinary 
affairs  of  life,  and  for  their  united  maintenance 
of  that  social  order,  sound  integrity,  and  do- 


mestic peace,  which  constitute  the  foundation 
of  all  that  is  most  valuable  in  the  society  of 
our  native  land. 

Much  as  I  have  said  of  the  influence  of  the 
domestic  habits  of  my  countrywomen,  it  is, 
after  all,  to  the  prevalence  of  religious  instruc- 
tion, and  the  operation  of  religious  principle 
upon  the  heart,  that  the  consistent  mainte- 
nance of  their  high  tone  of  moral  character  is 
to  be  attributed.  Among  families  in  the  mid- 
dle class  of  society  of  this  country,  those  who 
live  without  regard  to  religion  are  exceptions 
to  the  general  rule ;  while  the  great  propor- 
tion of  individuals  thus  circumstanced  are  not 
only  accustomed  to  give  their  time  and  atten- 
tion to  religious  observances,  but,  there  is 
every  reason  to  believe,  are  materially  affect- 
ed in  their  lives  and  conduct  by  the  operation 
of  Christian  principles  upon  their  own  minds. 
Women  are  said  to  be  more  easily  brought 
under  this  influence  than  men  ;  and  we  con- 
sequently see,  in  places  of  public  worship,  and 
on  all  occasions  in  which  a  religious  object  is 
the  motive  for  exertion,  a  greater  proportion 
of  women  than  of  men.  The  same  proportion 
may  possibly  be  observed  in  places  of  amuse- 
ment, and  where  objects  less  desirable  claim 
the  attention  of  the  public  ;  but  this  ought  not 
to  render  us  insensible  to  the  high  privileges 
of  our  favored  country,  where  there  is  so 
much  to  interest,  to  please,  and  to  instruct,  in 
what  is  connected  with  the  highest  and  holiest 
uses  to  which  we  can  devote  the  talents  com- 
mitted to  our  trust. 


CHAPTER  II. 


IT  might  form  a  subject  of  interesting  in- 
quiry, how  far  the  manifold  advantages  pos- 
sessed by  England  as  a  country,  derive  their 
origin  remotely  from  the  cause  already  descri- 
bed ;  but  the  immediate  object  of  the  present 
work  is  to  show  how  intimate  is  the  connection 
which  exists  between  the  women  of  England, 
and  the  moral  character  maintained  by  their 


1 


INFLUENCE  OF 


country  in  the  scale  of  nations.  For  a  woman 
o  undertake  such  a  task,  may  at  first  sight 
appear  like  an  act  of  presumption  ;  yet  when 
t  is  considered  that  the  appropriate  business 
of  men  is  to  direct,  and  expatiate  upon  those 
xpansive  and  important  measures  for  which 
their  capabilities  are  more  peculiarly  adapted, 
and  that  to  women  belongs  the  minute  and 
particular  observance  of  all  those  trifles  which 
ill  up  the  sum  of  human  happiness  or  misery, 
t  may  surely  be  deemed  pardonable  for  a 
woman  to  solicit  the  serious  attention  of  her 
own  sex,  while  she  endeavors  to  prove  that 
it  is  the  minor  morals  of  domestic  life  which 
give  the  tone  to  English  character,  and  that 
over  this  sphere  of  duty  it  is  her  peculiar  prov- 
ince to  preside. 

Aware  that  the  word  preside,  used  as  it  is 
icre,  may  produce  a  startling  effect  upon  the 
ar  of  man,  I  must  endeavor  to  bespeak  his 
forbearance,  by  assuring  him,  that  the  highest 
aim  of  the  writer  does  not  extend  beyond  the 
act  of  warning  the  women  of  England  back 
to  their  domestic  duties,  in  order  that  they 
may  become  better  wives,  more  useful  daugh- 
ters and  mothers,  who  by  their  examples  shall 
bequeath  a  rich  inheritance  to  those  who  fol- 
low in  their  steps. 

On  the  other  hand,  I  am  equally  aware 
that  a  work  such  as  I  am  proposing  to  myself 
must  be  liable  to  the  condemnation  of  all  mod- 
ern young  ladies,  as  a  homely,  uninteresting 
book,  and  wholly  unsuited  to  the  present  en- 
tightened  times.  I  must  therefore  endeavor 
also  to  conciliate  their  good-will,  by  assuring 
them,  that  all  which  is  must  lovely,  poetical, 
and  interesting,  nay,  even  heroic  in  women, 
derives  its  existence  from  the  source  I  am 
now  about  to  open  to  their  view,  with  all  the 
ability  I  am  able  to  command : — and  would 
it  were  a  hundred-fold,  for  their  Bakes ! 

The  kind  of  encouragement  I  would  hole 
out  to  them  is,  however,  of  a  nature  so  wide- 
ly different  from  the  compliments  to  which 
they  are  too  much  accustomed,  that  I  fee 
the  difficulty  existing  in  the  present  day,  o 
stimulating  a  laudable  ambition  in  the  femal< 
mind,  without  the  aid  of  public  praise  o 
printed  records  of  the  actual  product  of  thei 


meritorious  exertions.  The  sphere  of  wo- 
man's happiest  and  most  beneficial  influence 
is  a  domestic  one,  but  it  is  not  easy  to  award 
even  to  her  quiet  and  unobtrusive  virtues 
hat  meed  of  approbation  which  they  really 
deserve,  without  exciting  a  desire  to  forsake 
the  homely  household  duties  of  the  family 
circle  to  practise  such  as  are  more  conspic- 
uous, and  consequently  more  productive  of 
an  immediate  harvest  of  applause. 

I  say  this  with  all  kindness,  and  I  desire 
to  say  it  with  all  gentleness,  to  the  young, 
the  amiable,  and  the — vain;  at  the  same 
time  that  my  perception  of  the  temptation  to 
which  they  are  exposed,  enchances  my  value 
for  the  principle  that  is  able  to  withstand  it, 
and  increases  my  admiration  of  those  noble- 
minded  women  who  are  able  to  carry  forward, 
with  exemplary  patience  and  perseverance, 
the  public  offices  of  benevolence,  without 
sacrificing  their  home  duties,  and  who  thus 
prove  to  the  world,  that  the  perfection  of 
female  character  is  a  combination  of  private 
and  public  virtue, — of  domestic  charity,  and 
zeal  for  the  temporal  and  eternal  happiness 
of  the  whole  human  race. 

No  one  can  be  further  than  the  writer  ol 
these  pages  from  wishing  to  point  out  as  ob- 
jects of  laudable  emulation  those  domestic 
drudges,  who,  because  of  some  affinity  be- 
tween culinary  operations,  and  the  natural 
tone  and  character  of  their  own  minds,  prefer 
the  kitchen  to  the  drawing-room,— of  their 
own  free  choice,  employ  their  whole  lives  in 
the  constant  bustle  of  providing  for  mere 
animal  appetite,  and  waste  their  ingenuity  in 
the  creation  of  new  wants  and  wishes,  which 
all  their  faculties  again  are  taxed  to  supply 
This  class  of  individuals  have,  by  a  sad  mis- 
take in  our  nomenclature,  been  called  useful, 
and  hence,  in  some  degree,  may  arise  the 
unpopular  reception  which  this  valuable 
word  is  apt  to  meet  with  in  female  society. 

It  does  not  require  much  consideration  to 
perceive  that  these  are  not  the  women  to 
give  a  high  moral  tone  to  the  national  char- 
acter of  England ;  yet  so  entirely  do  human 
actions  derive  their  dignity  or  their  meanness 
from  the  motives  by  which  they  are  prompted 


THE  WOMEN  OF  ENGLAND. 


15 


that  it  is  no  violation  of  truth  to  say,  the 
most  servile  drudgery  may  be  ennobled  by 
the  self-sacrifice,  the  patience,  the  cheerful 
submission  to  duty,  with  which  it  is  perform- 
ed. Thus  a  high-minded  and  intellectual 
woman  is  never  more  truly  great  than  when 
willingly  and  judiciously  performing  kind  of- 
fices for  the  sick  ;  arid  much  as  may  be  said, 
and  said  justly,  in  praise  of  the  public  virtues 
of  women,  the  voice  of  nature  is  so  powerful 
in  every  human  heart,  that,  could  the  ques- 
tion of  superiority  on  these  two  points  be 
universally  proposed,  a  response  would  be 
heard  throughout  the  world,  in  favor  of  wo- 
man in  her  private  and  domestic  character. 

Nor  would  the  higher  and  more  expansive 
powers  of  usefulness  with  which  women  are 
endowed,  suffer  from  want  of  exercise,  did 
they  devote  themselves  assiduously  to  their 
domestic  duties.  I  am  rather  inclined  -to 
think  they  would  receive  additional  vigor 
from  the  healthy  tone  of  their  own  minds, 
and  the  leisure  and  liberty  afforded  by  the 
systematic  regularity  of  their  household  af- 
fairs. Time  would  never  hang  heavily  on 
their  hands,  but  each  moment  being  hus- 
banded with  care,  and  every  agent  acting 
under  their  influence  being  properly  chosen 
and  instructed,  they  would  find  ample  op- 
portunity to  go  forth  on  errands  of  mercy, 
secure  that  in  their  absence  the  machinery 
they  had  set  in  motion  would  still  continue 
to  work,  and  to  work  well. 

But  if,  on  the  other  hand,  all  was  confu- 
sion and  neglect  at  home — filial  appeals  un- 
answered— domestic  comforts  uncalculated — 
husbands,  sons,  and  brothers  referred  to  ser- 
vants for  all  the  little  offices  of  social  kind- 
ness, in  order  that  the  ladies  of  the  family 
might  hurry  away  at  the  appointed  time  to 
some  committee-room,  scientific  lecture,  or 
public  assembly :  however  laudable  the  ob- 
ject for  which  they  met,  there  would  be  suf- 
ficient cause  why  their  cheeks  should  be 
mantled  with  a  blush  of  burning  shame,  when 
they  heard  the  women  of  England  and  their 
virtues  spoken  of  in  that  high  tone  of  appro- 
bation and  applause,  which  those  who  aspire 
only  to  be  about  their  Master's  business  will 


feel  little  pleasure  in  listening  to,  and  which 
those  whose  charity  has  not  begun  at  home, 
ought  never  to  appropriate  to  themselves. 

It  is  a  widely  mistaken  notion  to  suppose 
that  the  sphere  of  usefulness  recommended 
here,  is  a  humiliating  and  degrading  one.  As 
if  the  earth  that  fosters  and  nourishes  in  its 
lovely  bosom  the  roots  of  all  the  plants  and 
trees  which  ornament  the  garden  of  the  world, 
feeding  them  from  her  secret  storehouse  with 
supplies  that  never  fail,  were  less  important, 
in  the  economy  of  vegetation,  than  the  sun 
that  brings  to  light  their  verdure  and  their 
flowers,  or  the  genial  atmosphere  that  per- 
fects their  growth,  and  diffuses  their  perfume 
abroad  upon  the  earth.  To. carry  out  the 
simile  still  further,  it  is  but  just  to  give  the 
preference  to  that  element  which,  in  the  ab- 
sence of  all  other  favoring  circumstances, 
withholds  not  its  support ;  but  when  the  sun 
is  shrouded,  and  the  showers  forget  to  fall, 
and  blighting  winds  go  forth,  and  the  hand 
of  culture  is  withdrawn,  still  opens  out  its 
hidden  fountains,  and  yields  up  its  resources, 
to  invigorate,  to  cherish,  and  sustain. 

It  would  be  an  easy  and  a  grateful  task, 
thus,  by  metaphor  and  illustration,  to  prove 
the  various  excellences  and  amiable  peculi- 
arities of  women,  did  not  the  utility  of  the 
present  work  demand  a  more  minute  and 
homely  detail  of  that  which  constitutes  her 
practical  and  individual  duty.  It  is  too  much 
the  custom  with  writers,  to  speak  in  these 
general  terms  of  the  loveliness  of  the  female 
character  ;  as  if  woman  were  some  fragrant 
flower,  created  only  to  bloom,  and  exhale  in 
sweets ;  when  perhaps  these  very  writers 
are  themselves  most  strict  in  requiring  that 
the  domestic  drudgery  of  their  own  house- 
holds should  each  day  be  faithfully  filled  up. 
How  much  more  generous,  just,  and  noble 
would  it  be  to  deal  fairly  by  woman  in  these 
matters,  and  to  tell  her  that  to  be  individually, 
what  she  is  praised  for  being  in  general,  it  is 
necessary  for  her  to  lay  aside  all  her  natural 
caprice,  her  love  of  self-indulgence,  her  vani- 
ty, her  indolence — in  short,  her  very  self—  and 
assuming  a  new  nature,  which  nothing  less 
than  watchfulness  and  prayer  can  enable  her 


16 


INFLUENCE  OF 


constantly  to  maintain,  to  spend  her  mental 
and  moral  capabilities  in  devising  means  for 
promoting  the  happiness  of  others,  while  her 
own  derives  a  remote  and  secondary  exist- 
ence from  theirs. 

If  an  admiration  almost  unbounded  for  the 
perfection  of  female  character,  with  a  sisterly 
participation  in  all  the  errors  and  weaknesses 
to  which  she  is  liable,  and  a  profound  sympa- 
thy with  all  that  she  is  necessarily  compelled 
to  feel  and  suffer,  are  qualifications  for  the 
task  I  have  undertaken,  these  certainly  are 
points  on  which  I  yield  to  none  ;  but  at  the 
same  time  that  I  do  my  feeble  best,  I  must 
deeply  regret  that  so  few  are  the  voices  lifted 
up  in  her  defence  against  the  dangerous  in- 
fluence of  popular  applause,  and  the  still  more 
dangerous  tendency  of  modern  habits,  and 
modern  education.  Perhaps  it  is  not  to  be 
expected  that  those  who  write  most  powerful- 
ly, should  most  clearly  perceive  the  influence 
of  the  one,  or  the  tendency  of  the  other ;  be- 
cause the  very  strength  and  consistency  of 
their  own  minds  must  in  some  measure 
exempt  them  from  participation  in  either. 
While,  therefore,  in  the  art  of  reasoning,  a 
writer  like  myself  must  be  painfully  sensible 
of  her  own  deficiency,  in  sympathy  of  feeling, 
she  is  perhaps  the  better  qualified  to  address 
the  weakest  of  her  sex. 

With  such,  it  is  a  favorite  plea,  brought  for- 
ward in  extenuation  of  their  own  uselessness, 
that  they  have  no  influence — that  they  are 
not  leading  women — that  society  takes  no 
note  of  them  ;  forgetting,  while  they  shelter 
themselves  beneath  these  indolent  excuses, 
that  the  very  feather  on  the  stream  may 
serve  to  warn  the  doubtful  mariner  of  the  rap- 
id and  fatal  current  by  which  his  bark  might 
be  hurried  to  destruction.  It  is,  moreover, 
from  among  this  class  that  wives  are  more 
frequently  chosen ;  for  there  is  a  peculiarity 
in  men — I  would  fain  call  it  benevolence — which 
inclines  them  to  offer  the  benefit  of  their  pro- 
tection to  the  most  helpless  and  dependant  of 
the  female  sex  ;  and  therefore  it  is  upon  this 
class  that  the  duty  of  training  up  the  young 
most  frequently  devolves ;  not  certainly  up- 
on the  naturally  imbecile,  but  upon  the  uncal- 


culating  creatures  whose  non-exercise  of  their 
own  mental  and  moral  faculties  renders  them 
not  only  willing  to  be  led  through  the  experi- 
ence of  life,  but  thankful  to  be  relieved  from 
the  responsibility  of  thinking  and  acting  for 
themselves. 

It  is  an  important  consideration,  that  from 
such  women  as  these,  myriads  of  immortal 
beings  derive  that  early  bias  of  character, 
which  under  Providence  decides  their  fate, 
not  only  in  this  world,  but  in  the  world  to 
come.  And  yet  they  flutter  on,  and  say  they 
have  no  influence — they  do  not  aspire  to  be 
leading  women — they  are  in  society  but  as 
grains  of  sand  on  the  sea-shore.  Would 
they  but  pause  one  moment  to  ask  how  will 
this  plea  avail  them,  when  as  daughters  with- 
out gratitude,  friends  without  good  faith,  wives 
without  consideration,  and  mothers  without 
piety,  they  stand  before  the  bar  of  judgment,  to 
render  an  account  of  the  talents  committed  to 
their  trust !  Have  they  not  parents,  to  whom 
they  might  study  to  repay  the  debt  of  care 
and  kindness  accumulated  in  their  childhood  ? 
— perhaps  to  whom  they  might  overpay  this 
debt,  by  assisting  to  remove  such  obstacles  as 
apparently  intercept  the  line  of  duty,  and  by 
endeavoring  to  alleviate  the  perplexing  cares 
which  too  often  obscure  the  path  of  life  1 
Have  they  not  their  young  friendships,  for 
those  sunny  hours  when  the  heart  expands 
itself  in  the  genial  atmosphere  of  mutual  love, 
and  shrinks  not  from  revealing  its  very  weak- 
nesses and  errors ;  so  that  a  faithful  hand  has 
but  to  touch  its  lenderrhords,  and  conscience 
is  awakened,  and  then  instruction  may  be 
poured  in,  and  medicine  may  be  administered, 
and  the  messenger  of  peace,  with  healing  on 
his  wings,  may  be  invited  to  come  in,  and  make 
that  heart  his  home  ?  Have  not  they  known 
the  secrets  of  some  faithful  bosom  laid  bare 
before  them  in  a  deeper  and  yet  more  confi- 
ding attachment,  when,  however  insignificant 
they  might  be  to  the  world  in  general,  they 
held  an  influence  almost  unbounded  over  one 
human  being,  and  could  pour  in,  for  the  bane 
or  the  blessing  of  that  bosom,  according  to 
the  fountain  from  whence  their  own  was  sup- 
plied, either  draughts  of  bitterness  or  floods 


THE  WOMEN  OF  ENGLAND. 


17 


of  light?  Have  they  not  bound  themselves  by 
a  sacred  and  enduring  bond,  to  be  to  one  fel- 
low-traveller along  the  path  of  life,  a  compan- 
ion on  his  journey,  and,  as  far  as  ability  might 
be  granted  them,  a  guide  and  a  help  in  the 
doubts  and  the  difficulties  of  his  way  7  Under 
these  urgent  and  serious  responsibilities,  have 
they  not  been  appealed  to,  both  in  words  and 
in  looks,  and  in  the  silent  language  of  the 
heart,  for  that  promised  help  7  And  how  has 
the  appeal  been  answered  ?  Above  all,  have 
they  not,  many  of  them,  had  the  feeble  steps 
of  infancy  committed  to  their  care — the  pure 
unsullied  page  of  childhood  presented  to 
them  for  its  first  and  most  durable  inscrip- 
tion 1 — and  what  have  they  written  there  1 
It  is  vain  to  plead  their  inability,  and  say  they 
knew  not  what  to  write,  and  therefore  left 
the  tablet  untouched,  or  sent  away  the  vacant 
page  to  be  filled  up  by  other  hands.  Time 
will  prove  to  them  they  have  written,  if  not 
by  any  direct  instrumentality,  by  their  exam- 
ple, their  conversation,  and  the  natural  influ- 
ence of  mind  on  mind.  Experience  will  prove 
to  them  they  have  written ;  and  the  tran- 
script of  what  they  have  written,  will  be  treas- 
ured up,  either  for  or  against  them,  among 
the  awful  records  of  eternity. 

It  is  therefore  not  only  false  in  reasoning, 
but  wrong  in  principle,  for  women  to  assert, 
as  they  not  unfrequently  do  with  a  degree  of 
puerile  satisfaction,  that  they  have  no  influ- 
ence. An  influence  fraught  either  with  good 
or  evil,  they  must  have  ;  and  though  the  one 
may  be  above  their  ambition,  and  the  other 
beyond  their  fears,  by  neglecting  to  obtain  an 
influence  which  shall  be  beneficial  to  society, 
they  necessarily  assume  a  bad  one  :  just  in 
the  same  proportion  as  their  selfishness,  in- 
dolence, or  vacuity  of  mind,  render  them  in 
youth  an  easy  prey  to  every  species  of  unami- 
able  temper,  in  middle  age  the  melancholy 
victims  of  mental  disease,  and,  long  before  the 
curtain  of  death  conceals  their  follies  from  the 
world,  a  burden  and  a  bane  to  society  at 
large. 

A  superficial  observer  might  rank  with  this 
class  many  of  those  exemplary  women,  who 
pass  to  and  fro  upon  the  earth  with  noiseless 


step,  whose  names  are  never  heard,  and  who, 
even  in  society,  if  they  attempt  to  speak,  have 
scarcely  the  ability  to  command  an  attentive 
audience.  Yet  among  this  unpretending 
class  are  found  striking  and  noble  instances 
of  women,  who,  apparently  feeble  and  insig- 
nificant, when  called  into  action  by  pressing 
and  peculiar  circumstances,  can  accomplish 
great  and  glorious  purposes,  supported  and 
carried  forward  by  that  most  valuable  of  all 
faculties — moral  power.  And  just  in  propor- 
tion as  women  cultivate  this  faculty  (under 
the  blessing  of  Heaven)  independently  of  all 
personal  attractions,  and  unaccompanied  by 
any  high  attainments  in  teaming  or  art,  is 
their  influence  over  their  fellow-creatures, 
and  consequently  their  power  of  doing  good. 

It  is  not  to  be  presumed  that  women  pos- 
sess more  moral  power  than  men  ;  but  happi- 
ly for  them,  such  are  their  early  impressions, 
associations,  and  general  position  in  the  world, 
that  their  moral  feelings  are  less  liable  to  be 
impaired  by  the  pecuniary  objects  which  too 
often  constitute  the  chief  end  of  man,  and 
which,  even  under  the  limitations  of  better 
principle,  necessarily  engage  a  large  portion  of 
his  thoughts.  There  are  many  humble-mind- 
ed women,  not  remarkable  for  any  particular 
intellectual  endowments,  who  yet  possess  so 
clear  a  sense  of  the  right  and  wrong  of  individ- 
al  actions,  as  to  be  of  essential  service  in  aiding 
the  judgments  of  their  husbands,  brothers,  or 
sons,  in  those  intricate  affairs  in  which  it  is 
sometimes  difficult  to  dissever  worldly  wis- 
dom from  religious  duty. 

To  men  belongs  the  potent  (I  had  almost 
said  the  omnipotent')  consideration  of  worldly 
aggrandizement ;  and  it  is  constantly  mis- 
leading their  steps,  closing  their  ears  against 
the  voice  of  conscience,  and  beguiling  them 
with  the  promise  of  peace,  where  peace  was 
never  found.  Long  before  the  boy  has  learn- 
ed to  exult  in  the  dignity  of  the  man,  his 
mind  has  become  familiarized  to  the  habit 
of  investing  with  supreme  importance,  all 
considerations  relating  to  the  acquisition 
wealth.  He  hears  on  the  Sabbath,  and  on 
stated  occasions,  when  men  meet  for  that 
especial  purpose,  of  a  God  to  be  worshipped, 


18 


INFLUENCE  OF 


a  Saviour  to  be  trusted  in,  and  a  holy  law  to 
be  observed;  but  he  sees  before  him,  and 
every  day  and  every  hour,  a  strife,  which  is 
nothing  less  than  deadly  to  the  highest  im- 
pulses of  the  soul,  after  another  God — the 
Mammon  of  unrighteousness — the  Moloch  of 
this  world ;  and  believing  rather  what  men 
do,  than  what  they  preach,  he  learns  too 
soon  to  mingle  with  the  living  mass,  and  to 
unite  his  labors  with  theirs.  To  unite !  Alas ! 
there  is  no  union  in  the  great  field  of  action 
in  which  he  is  engaged ;  but  envy,  and  ha- 
tred, and  opposition,  to  the  close  of  the  day, — 
every  man's  hand  against  his  brother,  and 
each  struggling  to  exalt  himself,  not  merely 
by  trampling  upon  his  fallen  foe,  but  by 
usurping  the  place  of  his  weaker  brother, 
who  faints  by  his  side,  from  not  having 
brought  an  equal  portion  of  strength  into  the 
conflict,  and  who  is  consequently  borne  down 
by  numbers,  hurried  over,  and  forgotten. 

This  may  be  an  extreme,  but  it  is  scarcely 
an  exaggerated  picture  of  the  engagements 
of  men  of  business  in  the  present  day.  And 
surely  they  now  need  more  than  ever  all  the 
assistance  which  Providence  has  kindly  pro- 
vided, to  win  them  away  from  this  warfare, 
to  remind  them  that  they  are  hastening  on 
towards  a  world  into  which  none  of  the 
treasures  they  are  amassing  can  be  admit- 
ted; and,  next  to  those  holier  influences 
which  operate  through  the  medium  of  reve- 
lation, or  through  the  mysterious  instrumen- 
tality of  Divine  love,  I  have  little  hesitation 
in  saying,  that  the  society  of  woman,  in  her 
highest  moral  capacity,  is  best  calculated  to 
effect  this  purpose. 

How  often  has  man  returned  to  his  home 
with  a  mind  confused  by  the  many  voices, 
which  in  the  mart,  the  exchange,  or  the  public 
assembly,  have  addressed  themselves  to  his 
inborn  selfishness  or  his  worldly  pride  ;  and 
while  his  integrity  was  shaken,  and  his  reso- 
lution gave  way  beneath  the  pressure  of  ap- 
parent necessity,  or  the  insidious  pretences  of 
expediency,  he  has  stood  corrected  before  the 
clear  eye  of  woman,  as  it  looked  directly  to 
the  naked  truth,  and  detected  the  lurking  evil 
of  the  specious  act  he  was  about  to  commit 


Nay,  so  potent  may  have  become  this  secret 
influence,  that  he  may  have  borne  it  about 
with  him  like  a  kind  of  second  conscience, 
for  mental  reference,  and  spiritual  counsel, 
in  moments  of  trial ;  and  when  the  snares  of 
the  world  were  around  him,  and  temptations 
from  within  and  without  have  bribed  over 
the  witness  in  his  own  bosom,  he  has  thought 
of  the  humble  monitress  who  sat  alone, 
guarding  the  fireside  comforts  of  his  distant 
home ;  and  the  remembrance  of  her  charac- 
ter, clothed  in  moral  beauty,  has  scattered 
the  clouds  before  his  mental  vision,  and  sent 
him  back  to  that  beloved  home,  a  wiser  and 
a  better  man. 

The  women  of  England,  possessing  the 
grand  privilege  of  being  better  instructed 
than  those  of  any  other  country  in  the  minu- 
tiie  of  domestic  comfort,  have  obtained  a 
degree  of  importance  in  society  far  beyond 
what  their  unobtrusive  virtues  would  appear 
to  claim.  The  long-established  customs  of 
their  country,  have  placed  in  their  hands  the 
high  and  holy  duty  of  cherishing  and  pro- 
tecting the  minor  morals  of  life,  from  whence 
springs  all  that  is  elevated  in  purpose,  and 
glorious  in  action.  The  sphere  of  their  direct 
personal  influence  is  central,  and  consequent- 
ly small ;  but  its  extreme  operations  are  as 
widely  extended  as  the  range  of  human  feel- 
ing. They  may  be  less  striking  in  society 
than  some  of  the  women  of  other  countries, 
and  may  feel  themselves,  on  brilliant  and 
stirring  occasions,  as  simple,  rude,  and  un- 
sophisticated in  the  popular  science  of  ex- 
citement ;  but  as  far  as  the  noble  daring  of 
Britain  lias  sent  forth  her  adventurous  sons, 
and  that  is  to  every  point  of  danger  on  the 
habitable  globe,  they  have  borne  along  with 
them  a  generosity,  a  disinterestedness,  and  a 
moral  courage,  derived  in  no  small  measure 
from  the  female  influence  of  their  native 
country. 

It  is  a  fact  well  worthy  of  our  most  serious 
attention,  and  one  which  bears  immediately 
upon  the  subject  under  consideration,  that 
the  present  state  of  our  national  affairs  is 
such  as  to  indicate  that  the  influence  of  wo- 
man in  counteracting  the  growing  evils  of 


THE  WOMEN  OF  ENGLAND. 


19 


society  is  about  to  be  more   needed  than 
ever. 

In  our  imperfect  state  of  being,  we  seldom 
attain  any  great  or  national  good  without  its 
accompaniment  of  evil ;  and  every  improve- 
ment proposed  for  the  general  weal,  has,  up- 
on some  individual,  or  some  class  of  individ- 
uals, an  effect  which  it  requires  a  fresh  exer- 
cise of  energy  and  principle  to  guard  against. 
Thus  the  great  facilities  of  communication, 
not  only  throughout  our  own  country,  but 
with  distant  parts  of  the  world,  are  rousing 
men  of  every  description  to  tenfold  exertion 
in  the  field  of  competition  in  which  they  are 
engaged ;  so  that  their  whole  being  is  becom- 
ing swallowed  up  in  efforts  and  calculations 
relating  to  their  pecuniary  success.  If  to 
grow  tardy  or  indifferent  in  the  race  were 
only  to  lose  the  goal,  many  would  be  glad 
to  pause ;  but  such  is  the  nature  of  com- 
merce and  trade  as  at  present  carried  on  in 
this  country,  that  to  slacken  in  exertion,  is 
altogether  to  fail.  I  would  fain  hope  and  be- 
lieve of  my  countrymen,  that  many  of  the 
rational  and  enlightened  would  now  be  wil- 
ling to  reap  smaller  gains,  if  by  so  doing  they 
could  enjoy  more  leisure.  But  a  business 
only  half  attended  to,  soon  ceases  to  be  a 
business  at  all ;  and  the  man  of  enlightened 
understanding,  who  neglects  his,  for  the  sake 
of  hours  of  leisure,  must  be  content  to  spend 
them  in  the  debtor's  department  of  a  jail. 

Thus,  it  is  not  with  single  individuals  that 
the  blame  can  be  made  to  rest.  The  fault  is 
in  the  system ;  and  happy  will  it  be  for 
thousands  of  immortal  souls,  when  this  sys- 
tem shall  correct  itself.  In  the  mean  time, 
may  it  not  be  said  to  be  the  especial  duty  of 
women  to  look  around  them,  and  see  in  what 
way  they  can  counteract  this  evil,  by  calling 
back  the  attention  of  man  to  those  sunnier 
spots  in  his  existence,  by  which  the  growth 
of  his  moral  feelings  have  been  encouraged, 
and  his  heart  improved) 

We  cannot  believe  of  the  fathers  who 
watched  over  our  childhood,  of  the  husbands 
who  shared  our  intellectual  pursuits,  of  the 
brothers  who  went  hand  in  hand  with  us  in 
our  love  of  poetry  and  nature,  that  they  are 


all  gone  over  to  the  side  of  mammon,  that 
there  does  not  lurk  in  some  corner  of  their 
hearts  a  secret  longing  to  return ;  yet  every 
morning  brings  the  same  hurried  and  indif- 
ferent parting,  every  evening  the  same  jaded, 
speechless,  welcomeless  return — until  we  al- 
most fail  to  recognise  the  man,  in  the  ma- 
chine. 

English  homes  have  been  much  boasted  of 
by  English  people,  both  at  home  and  abroad. 
What  would  a  foreigner  think  of  those  neat, 
and  sometimes  elegant  residences,  which 
form  a  circle  of  comparative  gentility  around 
our  cities  and  our  trading  towns)  What 
would  he  think,  when  told  that  the  fathers  of 
those  families  have  not  time  to  see  their  chil- 
dren except  on  the  Sabbath-day  1  and  that 
the  mothers,  impatient,  and  anxious  to  con- 
sult them  about  some  of  their  domestic  plans, 
have  to  wait,  perhaps  for  days,  before  they  can 
find  them  for  five  minutes  disengaged,  either 
from  actual  exertion,  or  from  that  sleep 
which  necessarily  steals  upon  them  immedi- 
ately after  the  over-excitement  of  the  day 
has  permitted  them  a  moment  of  repose. 

And  these  are  rational,  intellectual,  ac- 
countable, and  immortal  beings,  undergoing 
a  course  of  discipline  by  which  they  are  to 
be  fitted  for  eternal  existence !  What  wo- 
man can  look  on  without  asking — "  Is  there 
nothing  I  can  do,  to  call  them  back  )"  Surely 
there  is ;  but  it  never  can  be  done  by  the 
cultivation  of  those  faculties  which  contribute 
only  to  selfish  gratification.  Since  her  so- 
ciety is  shared  for  so  short  a  time,  she  must 
endeavor  to  make  those  moments  more  rich 
in  blessing ;  and  since  her  influence  is  limited 
to  so  small  a  range  of  immediate  operation, 
it  should  be  rendered  so  potent  as  to  mingle 
with  the.  whole  existence  of  those  she  loves. 

Will  an  increase  of  intellectual  attainments, 
or  a  higher  style  of  accomplishments,  effect 
this  purpose)  Will  the  common-place  fri- 
volities of  morning  calls,  or  an  interminable 
range  of  superficial  reading,  enable  them  to 
assist  their  brothers,  their  husbands,  or  their 
sons  in  becoming  happier  and  better  men ) 

No :  let  the  aspect  of  society  be  what  it 
may,  man  is  a  social  being,  and  beneath  the 


20 


MODERN  EDUCATION  OF 


hard  surface  he  puts  on,  to  fit  him  for  the 
wear  and  tear  of  every  day,  he  has  a  heart 
as  true  to  the  kindly  affections  of  our  nature, 
as  that  of  woman — as  true,  though  not  as 
suddenly  awakened  to  every  passing  call. 
He  has  therefore  need  of  all  her  sisterly  ser- 
vices, and,  under  the  pressure  of  the  present 
times,  he  needs  them  more  than  ever,  to  fos- 
ter in  his  nature,  and  establish  in  his  charac- 
ter, that  higher  tone  of  feeling  without  which 
he  can  enjoy  nothing  beyond  a  kind  of  ani- 
mal existence — but  with  which,  he  may 
faithfully  pursue  the  necessary  avocations 
of  the  day,  and  keep  as  it  were  a  separate 
soul  for  his  family,  his  social  duty,  and  his 
God. 

There  is  another  point  of  consideration  by 
which  this  necessity  for  a  higher  degree  of 
female  influence  is  greatly  increased,  and  it 
is  one  which  comprises  much  that  is  inter- 
esting to  those  who  aspire  to  be  the  support- 
ers of  their  country's  worth.  The  British 
throne  being  now  graced  by  a  female  sove- 
reign, the  auspicious  promise  of  whose  early 
years  peems  to  form  a  new  era  in  the  annals 
of  our  ration,  and  to  inspire  with  brighter 
hopes  and  firmer  confidence  the  patriot  bo- 
soms of  her  expectant  people ;  it  is  surely 
not  a  time  fci  the  female  part  of  the  commu- 
nity to  fall  sway  from  the  high  standard  of. 
moral  excellence,  to  which  they  have  been 
accustomed  to  look,  in  the  formation  of  their 
domestic  habits.  Rather  let  them  show  forth 
the  benefits  arising  from  their  more  enlight- 
ened systems  of  education,  by  proving  to 
their  youthful  sovereign,  that  whatever  plan 
she  may  think  it  right  to  sanction  for  the 
moral  advancement  of  her  subjects,  and  the 
promotion  of  their  true  interests  as  an  intelli- 
gent and  happy  people,  will  be  welcomed  by 
every  female  heart  throughout  her  realm, 
and  faithfully  supported  in  every  British 
home  by  the  female  influence  prevailing 
there. 

It  will  be  the  business  of  the  writer  through 
the  whole  of  the  succeeding  pages  of  this 
work,  to  endeavor  to  point  out,  how  the  wo- 
men of  England  may  render  this  important 
service,  not  only  to  the  members  of  their  own 


households,  but  to  the  community  at  large ; 
and  if  I  fail  in  arousing  them  to  bring,  as 
with  one  mind,  their  united  powers  to  stem 
the  popular  torrent  now  threatening  to  un- 
dermine the  strong  foundation  of  England's 
moral  worth,  it  will  not  be  for  want  of  earn- 
estness in  the  cause,  but  because  I  am  not 
endowed  with  talent  equal  to  the  task. 


CHAPTER  III. 

MODERN  EDUCATION. 

IN  writing  on  the  subject  of  modern  edu- 
cation, I  cannot  help  entertaining  a  fear  lest 
some  remarks  I  may  in  candor  feel  con- 
strained to  make,  should  be  construed  into 
disrespect  towards  that  truly  praiseworthy 
and  laborious  portion  of  the  community,  em- 
ployed in  conducting  this  education,  and 
pursuing,  with  laudable  endeavors,  what  is 
generally  believed  to  be  the  best  method  of 
training  up  the  young  women  of  the  present 
day.  Such,  however,  is  the  real  state  of  my 
own  sentiments,  that  I  have  long  been  ac- 
customed to  consider  this  class  of  individuals 
as  not  only  entitled  to  the  highest  pecuniary 
consideration,  but  equally  so  to  the  first 
place  in  society,  to  the  gratitude  of  their  fel- 
low-creatures, and  to  the  respect  of  mankind 
in  general,  who,  both  as  individuals,  and  as 
a  community,  are  deeply  indebted  to  them 
for  their  indefatigable  and  often  ill-requited 
services. 

A  woman  of  cultivated  understanding  and 
correct  religious  principle,  when  engaged  in 
the  responsible  task  of  educating  the  rising 
generation,  in  reality  fills  one  of  the  most  re- 
sponsible stations  to  which  a  human  being 
can  aspire ;  and  nothing  can  more  clearly  in- 
dicate a  low  state  of  public  morals  than  the 
vulgar  disrespect  and  parsimonious  remune- 
ration with  which  the  agents  employed  in 
education  are  sometimes  requited. 

It  is  with  what  is  taught,  not  with  those 
who  teach,  that  I  am  daring  enough  to  find 
fault  It  may  be  that  I  am  taking  an  unen- 


THE  WOMEN  OF  ENGLAND. 


21 


lightened  and  prejudiced  view  of  the  subject ; 
yet,  such  is  the  strong  conviction  of  ray  own 
mind,  that  I  cannot  rest  without  attempting 
to  prove  that  the  present  education  of  the 
women  of  England  does  not  fit  them  for 
faithfully  performing  the  duties  which  de- 
Yolve  upon  them  immediately  after  their 
leaving  school,  and  throughout  the  whole  of 
their  after  lives, — does  not  convert  them  from 
helpless  children  into  such  characters  as  all 
women  must  be,  in  order  to  be  either  esteem- 
ed or  admired. 

Nor  are  their  teachers  accountable  for  this. 
It  is  the  fashion  of  the  day — it  is  the  ambition 
of  the  times,  that  all  people  should,  as  far  as 
possible,  learn  all  tilings  of  which  the  human 
intellect  takes  cognizance  ;  and  what  would 
be  the  consternation  of  parents  whose  daugh- 
ter should  return  home  to  them  from  school 
unskilled  in  modern  accomplishments, — to 
whom  her  governess  should  say,  "  It  is  true, 
I  have  been  unable  to  make  your  child  a 
proficient  either  in  French  or  Latin,  nor  is  she 
very  apt  at  the  use  of  the  globes,  but  she  has 
been  pre-eminent  among  my  scholars  for  her 
freedom  from  selfishness,  and  she  possesses 
a  nobility  of  feeling  that  will  never  allow  her 
to  be  the  victim  of  meanness,  or  the  slave  of 
grovelling  desires." 

In  order  to  ascertain  -what  kind  of  educa- 
tion is  most  effective  in  making  woman  what 
she  ought  to  be,  the  best  method  is  to  inquire 
into  the  character,  station,  and  peculiar  du- 
ties of  woman  throughout  the  largest  portion 
of  her  earthly  career ;  and  then  ask,  for  what 
she  is  most  valued,  admired,  and  beloved. 

In  answer  to  this,  I  have  little  hesitation  in 
saying, — for  her  disinterested  kindness.  Look 
at  all  the  heroines  whether  of  romance  or 
reality — at  all  the  female  characters  that  are 
held  up  to  universal  admiration — at  all  who 
have  gone  down  to  honored  graves,  among 
the  tears  and  the  lamentations  of  their  sur- 
vivors. Have  these  been  the  learned,  the 
accomplished  women ;  the  women  who  could 
speak  many  languages,  who  could  solve 
problems,  and  elucidate  systems  of  philoso- 
phy 1  No  :  or  if  they  have,  they  have  also 
been  women  who  were  dignified  with  the 


majesty  of  moral  greatness — women  who  re- 
garded not  themselves,  their  own  feebleness, 
or  their  own  susceptibility  of  pain,  but  who, 
endued  with  an  almost  superhuman  energy, 
could  trample  under  foot  every  impediment 
that  intervened  between  them  and  the  accom- 
plishment of  some  great  object  upon  which 
their  hopes  wrere  fixed,  while  that  object  was 
wholly  unconnected  with  their  own  personal 
exaltation  or  enjoyment,  and  related  only  to 
some  beloved  object,  whose  suffering  was 
their  sorrow,  whose  good  their  gain. 

Woman,  with  all  her  accumulation  of  mi- 
nute disquietudes,  her  weakness,  and  her 
sensibility,  is  but  a  meager  item  in  the  cata- 
logue of  humanity  ;  but  roused  by  a  suffi- 
cient motive  to  forget  all  these,  or,  rather, 
continually  forgetting  them,  because  she  has 
other  and  nobler  thoughts  to  occupy  her 
mind,  woman  is  truly  and  majestically  great 

Never  yet,  however,  was  woman  great  be- 
cause she  had  great  acquirements ;  nor  can 
she  ever  be  great  in  herself— personally,  and 
without  instrumentality — as  an  object,  not  an 
agent 

From  the  beginning  to  the  end  of  school 
education,  the  improvement  of  self,  so  far- as 
relates  to  intellectual  attainments,  is  made 
the  rule  and  the  motive  of  all  that  is  done. 
Rewards  are  appointed  and  portioned  out 
for  what  has  been  learned,  not  what  has 
been  imparted.  To  gain,  is  the  universal 
order  of  the  establishment ;  and  those  who 
have  heaped  together  the  greatest  sum  of 
knowledge  are  usually  regarded  as  the  most 
meritorious.  Excellent  discourses  may  be 
delivered  by  the  preceptress  upon  the  Chris- 
tian duties  of  benevolence  and  disinterested 
love ;  but  the  whole  system  is  one  of  pure 
selfishness,  fed  by  accumulation,  and  reward- 
ed by  applause.  To  be  at  the  head  of  the 
class,  to  gain  the  ticket  or  the  prize,  are  the 
points  of  universal  ambition ;  and  few  in- 
dividuals, among  the  community  of  aspi- 
rants, are  taught  to  look  forward  with  a  ra- 
tional presentiment  to  that  future,  when  their 
merit  will  be  to  give  the  place  of  honor  to 
others,  and  their  happiness  to  give  it  to  those 
who  are  more  worthy  than  themselves. 


22 


MODERN  EDUCATION  OF 


We  will  not  assert  that  no  one  entertains 
such  thoughts;  for  there  is  a  voice  in  wo- 
man's heart  too  strong  for  education — a  prin- 
ciple which  the  march  of  intellect  is  unable 
to  overthrow. 

Retiring  from  the  emulous  throng,  we  some- 
times find  a  little,  despised,  neglected  girl,  who 
has  won  no  prize,  obtained  no  smile  of  appro- 
bation from  her  superiors.  She  is  a  dull  girl, 
who  learns  slowly,  and  cannot  be  taught  so 
as  to  keep  up  with  the  rest  without  incalcu- 
lable pains.  The  fact  is,  she  has  no  great 
wish  to  keep  up  with  them  :  she  only  wants 
to  be  loved  and  trusted  by  her  teachers  ;  and 
oh !  how  does  she  wish,  with  tears,  and  al- 
most with  prayers,  that  they  would  love  and 
trust  her,  and  give  her  credit  for  doing  her 
best  Beyond  this  she  is  indifferent ;  she  has 
no  motive  but  that  of  pleasing  others,  for  try- 
ing to  be  clever;  and  she  is  quite  satisfied 
that  her  friend,  the  most  ambitious  girl  in  the 
school,  should  obtain  all  the  honors  without 
her  competition.  Indeed,  she  feels  as  though 
it  scarcely  would  be  delicate,  scarcely  kind  m 
her,  to  try  so  much  to  advance  before  her 
friend  ;  and  she  gently  falls  back,  is  reproved 
for  her  neglect,  and,  finally,  despised. 

I  knew  a  girl  who  was  one  of  the  best 
grammarians  in  a  large  school,  whose  friend 
was  peculiarly  defective  in  that  particular 
branch  of  learning.  Once  every  year  the 
order  of  the  class  was  reversed,  the  girl  who 
held  the  highest  place  exchanging  situations 
with  the  lowest,  and  thus  affording  all  an 
equal  chance  of  obtaining  honors.  The  usual 
order  of  the  class  was  soon  restored,  except 
that  the  good  grammarian  was  always  ex- 
pected by  her  friend  to  whisper  in  her  ear  a 
suitable  answer  to  every  question  proposed, 
and  as  this  girl  necessarily  retrograded  to  the 
place  to  which  her  own  ignorance  entitled 
her,  her  friend  felt  bound  by  affection  and 
kindness  to  relieve  her  distress  every  time 
the  alarming  question  came  to  her  turn. 
She  consequently  remained  the  lowest  in  the 
class  until  the  time  of  her  leaving  the  school, 
often  subjected  to  the  reproofs  of  her  teach- 
ers, and  fully  alive  to  her  humiliating  situa- 
tion, but  never  once  turning  a  deaf  ear  to 


her  friend,  or  refusing  to  assist  her  in  her 
difficulties. 

In  the  schools  of  the  ancients,  an  act  of 
patient  disinterestedness  like  this,  would  have 
met  with  encouragement  and  reward ;  in  the 
school  where  it  took  place,  it  was  well  for 
both  parties  that  it  was  never  known. 

In  making  these  and  similar  remarks,  I 
am  aware  that  I  may  bring  upon  myself  the 
charge  of  wishing  to  exclude  from  our 
schools  all  intellectual  attainments  what- 
ever ;  for  how,  it  will  be  asked,  can  learning 
be  acquired  without  emulation,  and  without 
rewards  for  the  diligent,  and  punishments 
for  the  idle? 

So  far,  however,  from  wishing  to  cast  a 
shade  of  disrespect  over  such  attainments,  I 
am  decidedly  of  opinion  that  no  human  be- 
ing can  know  too  much,  so  long  as  the  sphere 
of  knowledge  does  not  extend  to  what  is 
positively  evil.  I  am  also  of  opinion  that 
there  is  scarcely  any  department  of  art  or 
science,  still  less  of  mental  application,  which 
is  not  calculated  to  strengthen  and  improve 
the  mind  ;  but  at  the  same  time  I  regard  the 
improvement  of  the  heart  of  so  much  greater 
consequence,  that  if  time  and  opportunity 
should  fail  for  both,  I  would  strenuously 
recommend  that  women  should  be  sent 
home  from  school  with  fewer  accomplish- 
ments, and  more  of  the  will  and  the  power 
to  perform  the  various  duties  necessarily  de- 
volving upon  them. 

Again,  I  am  reminded  of  the  serious  and 
important  fact,  that  religion  alone  can  im- 
prove the  heart ;  and  to  this  statement  no 
one  can  yield  assent  with  more  reverential 
belief  in  its  truth  than  myself.  I  acknow- 
ledge, also,  for  I  know  it  to  be  a  highly  cred- 
itable fact,  that  a  large  proportion  of  the  mer- 
itorious individuals  who  take  upon  them- 
selves the  arduous  task  of  training  up  the 
young,  are  conscientiously  engaged  in  giving 
to  religious  instruction  that  place  which  it 
ought  unquestionably  to  hold  in  every  Chris- 
tian school.  But  I  would  ask,  is  instruction 
all  that  is  wanted  for  instilling  into  the  minds 
of  the  rising  generation  the  benign  principles 
of  Christian  faith  and  practice  ? 


THE  WOMEN  OF  ENGLAND. 


23 


It  is  not  thought  enough  to  instruct  the 
young  sculptor  in  the  rules  of  his  art,  to 
charge  his  memory  with  the  names  of  those 
who  have  excelled  in  it,  and  with  the  princi- 
ples they  have  laid  down  for  the  guidance  of 
others. — No :  he  must  work  with  his  own 
hand;  and  long  before  that  hand,  and  the 
mind  by  which  it  is  influenced,  have  attained 
maturity,  he  must  have  learned  to  mould  the 
pliant  clay,  and  have  thus  become  familiar 
with  the  practice  of  his  art. 

And  shall  this  universally  acknowledged 
system  of  instruction,  to  which  we  are  in- 
debted for  all  that  is  excellent  in  art  and  ad- 
mirable in  science,  be  neglected  in  the  educa- 
tion of  the  young  Christian  alone  ?  Shall  he 
be  taught  the  bare  theory  of  his  religion,  and 
left  to  work  out  its  practice  as  he  can  ?  Shall 
he  be  instructed  in  what  he  is  to  believe,  and 
not  assisted  in  doing  also  the  will  of  his 
heavenly  Father  ? 

We  all  know  that  it  is  not  easy  to  practise 
even  the  simplest  rule  of  right,  when  we 
have  not  been  accustomed  to  do  so :  and  the 
longer  we  are  before  we  begin  to  regulate 
our  conduct  by  the  precepts  of  religion,  the 
more  difficult  it  will  be  to  acquire  such  habits 
as  are  calculated  to  adorn  and  show  forth 
the  purity  and  excellence  of  its  principles. 

There  is  one  important  difference  between 
the  acquisition  of  knowledge,  and  the  acqui- 
sition of  good  habits,  which  of  itself  ought  to 
be  sufficient  to  ensure  a  greater  degree  of  at- 
tention to  the  latter.  When  the  little  pupil 
first  begins  her  education,  her  mind  is  a  total 
blank,  as  far  as  relates  to  the  different  branches 
of  study  into  which  she  is  about  to  be  intro- 
duced, and  there  is  consequently  nothing  to 
oppose.  She  is  not  prepossessed  in  favor  of 
any  false  system  of  arithmetic,  grammar,  or 
geography,  and  the  ideas  presented  to  her 
on  these  subjects  are  consequently  willingly 
received,  and  adopted  as  her  own. 

How  different  is  the  moral  state  of  the  un- 
instructed  child  !  Selfishness  coeval  with 
her  existence  has  attained  an  alarming 
growth  ;  and  all  the  other  passions  and  pro- 
pensities inherent  in  her  nature,  taking  their 
natural  course,  have  strengthened  with  her 


advance  towards  maturity,  and  are  ready  to 
assume  an  aspect  too  formidable  to  afford 
any  prospect  of  their  being  easily  brought 
into  subjection. 

Yet,  notwithstanding  this  difference,  the 
whole  machinery  of  education  is  brought  to 
bear  upon  the  intellectual  part  of  her  nature, 
and  her  moral  feelings  are  left  to  the  training 
of  the  play-ground,  where  personal  influ- 
ence, rather  than  right  feeling,  too  frequently 
decides  her  disputes,  and  places  her  either 
high  or  low  in  the  ranks  of  her  companions. 
It  is  true,  she  is  very  seriously  and  proper- 
ly corrected  when  convicted  of  having  done 
wrong,  and  an  admirable  system  of  morals  is 
promulgated  in  the  school ;  but  the  subject  I 
would  complain  of  is,  that  no  means  have 
yet  been  adopted  for  making  the  practice  of 
this  system  the  object  of  highest  importance 
in  our  schools.  No  adequate  means  have 
been  adopted  for  testing  the  generosity,  the 
high-mindedness,  the  integrity  of  the  chil- 
dren who  pursue  their  education  at  school, 
until  they  leave  it  at  the  age  of  sixteen,  when 
their  moral  faculties,  either  for  good  or  for 
evil,  must  have  attained  considerable  growth. 
Let  us  single  out  from  any  particular  semi- 
nary a  child  who  has  been  there  from  the 
years  of  ten  to  fifteen,  and  reckon,  if  it  can 
be  reckoned,  the  pains  that  have  been  spent 
in  making  that  child  a  proficient  in  Latin. 
Have  the  same  pains  been  spent  in  making 
her  disinterestedly  kind  ?  And  yet  what 
man  is  there  in  existence  who  would  not 
rather  his  wife  should  be  free  from  selfish- 
ness, than  be  able  to  read  Virgil  without  the 
use  of  a  dictionary. 

There  is  no  reason,  however,  why  both 
these  desirable  ends  should  not  be  aimed  at, 
and  as  the  child  progresses  in  self-denial,  for- 
bearance, generosity,  and  disinterested  kind- 
ness, it  might  be  her  reward  to  advance  in 
the  acquisition  of  languages,  or  of  whatever 
accomplishments  it  might  be  thought  most 
desirable  for  her  to  attain.  If  I  am  told  there 
would  not  be  time  for  all  the  discipline  requi- 
site for  the  practice  of  morals,  I  ask  in  reply, 
— how  much  do  most  young  ladies  learn  at 
school  for  which  they  never  find  any  use  in 


24 


MODERN  EDUCATION  OF 


after  life,  and  for  which  it  is  not  probable, 
from  their  circumstances,  that  they  ever 
should.  Let  the  hours  spent  upon  music  by 
those  who  have  no  ear — upon  drawing,  by 
those  who  might  almost  be  said  to  have  no 
eye — upon  languages,  by  those  who  never 
afterwards  speak  any  other  than  their  mother 
tongue — be  added  together  year  after  year  ; 
and  an  aggregate  of  wasted  time  will  present 
itself!  sufficient  to  alarm  those  who  are  sen- 
sible of  its  value,  and  of  the  awful  responsi- 
bility of  using  it  aright 

It  is  impossible  that  the  teachers,  or  even 
the  parents  themselves,  should  always  know 
the  future  destiny  of  the  child  ;  but  there  is 
an  appropriate  sphere  for  women  to  move  in, 
from  which  those  of  the  middle  class  in  Eng- 
land seldom  deviate  very  widely.  This 
sphere  has  duties  and  occupations  of  its 
own,  from  which  no  woman  can  shrink  with- 
out culpability  and  disgrace ;  and  the  ques- 
tion is,  are  women  prepared  for  these  duties 
and  occupations  by  what  they  learn  at 
school  ? 

For  my  own  part,  I  know  not  how  educa- 
tion deserves  the  name,  if  it  does  not  prepare 
the  individual  whom  it  influences  for  filling 
her  appointed  station  in  the  best  possible 
manner.  What,  for  instance,  should  we 
think  of  a  school  for  sailors,  in  which  no- 
thing was  taught  but  the  fine  arts ;  or  for 
musicians,  in  which  the  students  were  only 
instructed  in  the  theory  of  sound  ? 

With  regard  to  the  women  of  England,  I 
have  already  ventured  to  assert  that  the 
quality  for  which,  above  all  others,  they  are 
esteemed  and  valued,  is  their  disinterested 
kindness.  A  selfish  woman  may  not  im- 
properly be  regarded  as  a  monster,  especially 
in  that  sphere  of  life  where  there  is  a  con- 
stant demand  made  upon  her  services.  But 
how  are  women  taught  at  school  to  forget 
themselves,  and  to  cultivate  that  high  tone 
of  generous  feeling  to  which  the  world  is  so 
much  indebted  for  the  hope  and  the  joy,  the 
peace  and  the  consolation,  which  the  influ- 
ence and  companionship  of  woman  is  able  to 
diffuse  throughout  its  very  deserts,  visiting, 
as  with  blessed  sunshine,  the  abodes  of  the 


wretched  and  the  poor,  and  sharing  cheer- 
fully the  lot  of  the  afflicted? 

In  what  school,  or  under  what  system  of 
modern  education,  can  it  be  said  that  the 
chief  aim  of  the  teachers,  the  object  to  which 
their  laborious  exertions  are  mainly  directed, 
is  to  correct  the  evil  of  selfishness  in  the 
hearts  of  their  pupils  ?  Improved  methods 
of  charging  and  surcharging  the  memory 
are  eagerly  sought  out,  and  pursued,  at  any 
cost  of  time  and  patience,  if  not  of  health 
itself ;  but  who  ever  thinks  of  establishing  a 
selfish  class  among  the  girls  of  her  establish- 
ment, or  of  awarding  the  honors  and  distinc- 
tions of  the  school  to  such  as  have  exhibited 
the  most  meritorious  instances  of  self-denial 
for  the  benefit  of  others  1 

It  may  be  objected  to  this  plan,  that  virtue 
ought  to  be  its  own  reward,  and  that  honors 
and  rewards  adjudged  to  the  most  meritorious 
in  a  moral  point  of  view,  would  be  likely  to 
induce  a  degree  of  self-complacency  wholly 
inconsistent  with  Christian  meekness.  I  am 
aware  that,  in  our  imperfect  state,  no  plan 
can  be  laid  down  for  the  promotion  of  good, 
with  which  evil  will  not  be  liable  to  mix.  All 
I  contend  for  is,  that  the  same  system  of  dis- 
cipline, with  the  same  end  in  view,  should  be 
begun  and  carried  on  at  school,  as  that  to 
which  the  scholar  will  necessarily  be  subject- 
ed in  after  life ;  and  that  throughout  the 
training  of  her  early  years,  the  same  stand- 
ard of  merit  should  be  adopted,  as  she  will 
find  herself  compelled  to  look  up  to,  when 
released  from  that  training,  and  sent  forth 
into  the  world  to  think  and  act  for  herself. 

At  school  it  has  been  the  business  of  every 
day  to  raise  herself  above  her  companions  by 
attainments  greater  than  theirs  ;  in  after  life 
it  will  be  the  business  of  every  day  to  give 
place  to  others,  to  think  of  their  happiness, 
and  to  make  sacrifices  of  her  own  to  pro- 
mote it  If  such  acts  of  self-denial,  when 
practised  at  school,  should  endanger  the 
equanimity  of  her  mind  by  the  approbation 
they  obtain,  what  will  they  do  in  the  world 
she  is  about  to  enter,  where  the  unanimous 
opinion  of  mankind,  both  in  this  and  in  past 
ages,  is  in  their  favor,  and  where  she  must 


THE  WOMEN  OF  ENGLAND. 


25 


perpetually  hear  woman  spoken  of  in  terms 
of  the  highest  commendation,  not  for  her 
learning,  but  for  her  disinterested  kindness, 
her  earnest  zeal  in  promoting  the  happiness 
of  her  fellow-creatures,  and  the  patience  and 
forbearance  with  which  she  studies  to  miti- 
gate affliction  and  relieve  distress  7 

Would  it  not  be  safer,  then,  to  begin  at  a 
very  early  age  to  make  the  practice  of  these 
virtues  the  chief  object  of  their  lives,  guard- 
ing at  the  same  time  against  any  self-com- 
placency that  might  attach  to  the  perform- 
ance of  them,  by  keeping  always  before  their 
view  higher  and  nobler  instances  of  virtue  in 
others  ;  and  especially  by  a  strict  and  con- 
stant reference  to  the  utter  worthlessness  of 
all  human  merit,  in  comparison  with  the 
mercy  and  forgiveness  that  must  ever  impose 
a  debt  of  gratitude  upon  our  own  souls  1 

Taking  into  consideration  the  various  ex- 
cellences and  peculiarities  of  woman,  I  am 
inclined  to  think  that  the  sphere  which  of  all 
others  admits  of  the  highest  development  of 
her  character,  is  the  chamber  of  sickness  ;  and 
how  frequently  and  mournfully  familiar  are 
the  scenes  in  which  she  is  thus  called  to  act 
and  feel,  let  the  private  history  of  every  fam- 
ily declare. 

There  is  but  a  very  small  proportion  of  the 
daughters  of  farmers,  manufacturers,  and 
trades-people,  in  England,  who  are  ever  call- 
ed upon  for  their  Latin,  their  Italian,  or  even 
for  their  French ;  but  all  women  in  this 
sphere  of  life  are  liable  to  be  called  upon  to 
visit  and  care  for  the  sick  ;  and  if  in  the  hour 
of  weakness  and  of  suffering,  they  prove  to 
be  unacquainted  with  any  probable  means  of 
alleviation,  and  wholly  ignorant  of  the  most 
judicious  and  suitable  mode  of  offering  relief 
and  consolation,  they  are  indeed  deficient  in 
one  of  the  highest  attainments  in  the  way  of 
usefulness,  to  which  a  woman  can  aspire. 

To  obviate  the  serious  difficulties  which 
many  women  experience  from  this  cause,  I 
woxild  propose,  as  a  substitute  for  some 
useless  accomplishments,  that  English  girls 
should  be  made  acquainted  with  the  most 
striking  phenomena  of  some  of  the  familiar, 
and  frequently  recurring  maladies  to  which 


the  human  frame  is  liable,  with  the  most  ap- 
proved methods  of  treatment  And  by  culti- 
vating this  knowledge  so  far  as  relates  to 
general  principles,  I  have  little  doubt  but  it 
might  be  made  an  interesting  and  highly  use- 
ful branch  of  education. 

I  am  far  from  wishing  them  to  interfere 
with  the  province  of  the  physician.  The 
more  they  know,  the  less  likely  they  will  be 
to  do  this.  The  office  of  a  judicious  nurse 
is  all  I  would  recommend  them  to  aspire  to ; 
and  to  the  same  department  of  instruction 
should  be  added  the  whole  science  of  that 
delicate  and  difficult  cookery  which  forms  so 
important  a  part  of  the  attendant's  duty. 

Nor  let  these  observations  call  forth  a  smile 
upon  the  rosy  lips  that  are  yet  unparched  by 
fever,  untainted  by  consumption.  Fair  read- 
er, there  have  been  those  who  would  have 
given  at  the  moment  almost  half  their  world- 
ly wealth,  to  have  been  able  to  provide  a  pa- 
latable morsel  for  a  beloved  sufferer ;  who 
have  met  the  inquiring  eye,  that  asked  for  it 
knew  not  what,  and  that  expressed  by  its 
anxious  look  an  almost  childish  longing  for 
what  they  were  unable  to  supply,  not  because 
the  means  were  denied,  but  simply  because 
they  were  too  ignorant  of  the  nature  and 
necessities  of  illness  to  form  any  practical 
idea  of  what  would  be  most  suitable  and  most 
approved.  Perhaps,  in  their  well-meant  offi- 
ciousness,  they  mentioned  the  only  thing 
they  were  acquainted  with,  and  that  was  just 
the  most  repulsive.  What  then  have  they 
done  ?  Allowed  the  faint  and  feeble  sufferer 
to  go  pining  on,  wishing  it  had  been  her  lot 
to  fall  under  the  care  of  any  other  nurse. 

How  invaluable  at  such  a  time  is  the  al- 
most endless  catalogue  of  good  and  suitable 
preparations  with  which  the  really  clever  wo- 
man is  supplied,  any  one  of  which  she  is 
able  to  prepare  with  her  own  hands  ;  choos- 
ing, with  the  skill  of  the  doctor,  what  is  best 
adapted  for  the  occasion,  and  converting  diet 
into  medicine  of  the  most  agreeable  descrip- 
tion, which  she  brings  silently  into  the  sick- 
room without  previous  mention,  and  thus 
exhilarates  the  spirits  of  the  patient  by  an 
agreeable  surprise ! 


•Jti 


MODERN  EDUCATION  OF 


It  is  customary  with  young  ladies  of  the 
present  day  to  think  that  nurses  and  hired 
attendants  ought  to  do  these  things ;  and 
well  and  faithfully  they  sometimes  do  them, 
to  the  shame  of  those  connected  by  nearer 
ties.  But  are  they  ignorant  that  a  hired  hand 
can  never  impart  such  sweetness  to  a  cordial 
as  a  hand  beloved  ;  and  that  the  most  deli- 
cate and  most  effectual  means  of  proving 
the  strength  of  their  affection,  is  to  choose  to 
do,  what  might  by  possibility  have  been  ac- 
complished by  another  1 

When  we  meet  in  society  with  that  speech- 
less, inanimate,  ignorant,  and  use-less  being 
called  "  a  young  lady  just  come  from  school," 
it  is  thought  a  sufficient  apology  for  all  her 
deficiencies,  that  she  has,  poor  thing !  but 
just  come  home  from  school  Thus  imply- 
ing that  nothing  in  the  way  of  domestic  use- 
fulness, social  intercourse,  or  adaptation  to 
circumstances,  can  be  expected  from  her 
until  she  has  had  time  to  learn  it 

If,  during  the  four  or  five  years  spent  at 
school,  she  had  been  establishing  herself  upon 
the  foundation  of  her  future  character,  and 
learning  to  practise  what  would  afterwards 
be  the  business  of  her  life,  she  would,  when 
her  education  was  considered  as  complete, 
be  in  the  highest  possible  state  of  perfection 
which  her  nature,  at  that  season  of  life,  would 
admit  of.  This  is  what  she  ought  to  be.  I 
need  not  advert  to  what  she  is.  The  case  is 
too  pitiful  to  justify  any  further  description. 
The  popular  and  familiar  remark,  "Poor 
thing  !  she  has  just  come  home  from  school ; 
what  can  you  expect  ?"  is  the  best  commen- 
tary I  can  offer. 

There  is  another  point  of  difference  be- 
tween the  training  of  the  intellect,  and  that 
of  the  moral  feelings,  of  more  serious  import- 
ance than  any  we  have  yet  considered. 

We  all  know  that  the  occupation  of  teach- 
ing, as  it  relates  to  the  common  branches  oi 
instruction,  is  one  of  such  Herculean  labor, 
that  few  persons  are  found  equal  to  it  for  any 
protracted  length  of  time;  and  even  with 
such,  it  is  necessary  that  they  should  bend 
their  minds  to  it  with  a  determined  effort, 
and  make  each  day  a  renewal  of  that  effort, 


not  to  be  baffled  by  difficulties,  nor  defeated 
by  want  of  success.  We  all  know,  too,  what  it 
is  to  the  learned  to  be  dragged  on  day  by  day 
through  the  dull  routine  of  exercises  in  which 
she  feels  no  particular  interest,  except  what 
arises  from  getting  in  advance  of  her  fellows, 
obtaining  a  prize,  or  suffering  a  pu-nishment 

We  all  can  remember  the  atmosphere  of 
the  school-room,  so  uncongenial  to  the  fresh 
and  buoyant  spirits  of  youth — the  clatter  of 
slates,  the  dull  point  of  the  pencil,  and  the 
white  cloud  where  the  wrong  figure,  the  fig- 
ure that  would  prove  the  incorrectness  of  the 
whole,  had  so  often  been  rubbed  out  To 
say  nothing  of  the  morning  lessons,  before  the 
dust  from  the  desks  and  the  floor  had  been 
put  in  motion,  we  all  can  remember  the  af- 
ternoon sensations  with  which  we  took  our 
places,  perhaps  between  companions  the  most 
unloved  by  us  of  any  in  the  school ;  and  how, 
while  the  summer's  sun  was  shining  in 
through  the  high  windows,  we  pored  with 
aching  head  over  some  dry  dull  words,  that 
would  not  transmit  themselves  to  the  tablet 
of  our  memories,  though  repeated  with  inde- 
fatigable industry,  repeated  until  they  seemed 
to  have  no  identity,  no  distinctness,  but  were 
mingled  with  the  universal  hum  and  buzz  of 
the  close,  heated  room  ;  where  the  heart,  if 
it  did  not  forget  itself  to  stone,  at  least  for- 
got itself  to  sleep,  and  lost  all  power  of  feel- 
ing any  thing  but  weariness,  and  occasional 
pining  for  relief.  Class  after  class  were  then 
called  up  from  this  hot-bed  of  intellect  The 
tones  of  the  teacher's  voice,  though  not  al- 
ways the  most  musical,  might  easily  have 
been  pricked  down  in  notes,  they  were  so 
uniform  in  their  cadences  of  interrogation, 
rejection,  and  reproof.  These,  blending  with 
the  slow,  dull  answers  of  the  scholars,  and 
occasionally  the  quick  guess  of  one  ambitious 
to  attain  the  highest  place,  all  mingled  with 
the  general  monotony,  and  increased  the 
general  stupor  that  weighed  down  every  eye, 
and  deadened  every  pulse. 

There  are,  unquestionably,  quick  children, 
who  may  easily  be  made  fond  of  learning,  if 
judiciously  treated  ;  and  it  no  doubt  happens 
to  all,  that  there  are  portions  of  their  daily 


THE  WOMEN  OF  ENGLAND. 


27 


duty  not  absolutely  disagreeable  ;  but  that 
weariness  is  the  prevalent  sensation  both  with 
the  teachers  and  the  taught,  is  a  fact  that  few 
will  attempt  to  deny ;  nor  is  it  a  libel  upon 
individuals  thus  engaged,  or  upon  human 
nature  in  general,  that  it  should  be  so.  We 
are  so  constituted  that  we  cannot  spend  all 
our  time  in  the  exercise  of  our  intellect,  with- 
out absolute  pain,  especially  while  young; 
and  when,  in  after  life,  we  rise  with  exhaust- 
ed patience  from  three  hours  of  writing  or 
reading,  we  cannot  look  back  with  wonder 
that  at  school  we  suffered  severely  from  the 
labor  of  six. 

It  is  not  my  province  to  describe  how  much 
the  bodily  constitution  is  impaired  by  this  in- 
cessant application  to  study.  Philanthropical 
means  are  devised  for  relieving  the  young 
student  as  much  as  possible,  by  varying  the 
subjects  of  attention,  and  allowing  short  in- 
tervals of  bodily  exercise :  but  still  the  high- 
pressure  system  goes  on  ;  and,  with  all  their 
attainments  in  the  way  of  learning,  few  of  the 
young  ladies  who  return  home  after  a  highly 
finished  education,  are  possessed  of  health 
and  energy  sufficient  to  make  use  of  their  at- 
tainments, even  if  they  occupied  a  field  more 
suited  to  their  display. 

I  know  not  how  it  may  affect  others,  but 
the  number  of  languid,  listless,  and  inert  young 
ladies,  who  now  recline  upon  our  sofas,  mur- 
muring and  repining  at  every  claim  upon  their 
personal  exertions,  is  to  me  a  truly  melancholy 
spectacle,  and  one  which  demands  the  atten- 
tion of  a  benevolent  and  enlightened  public, 
even  more,  perhaps,  than  some  of  those  great 
national  schemes  in  which  the  people  and  the 
government  are  alike  interested.    It  is  but 
rarely  now  that  we  meet  with  a  really  healthy 
woman  :   and,  highly  as   intellectual  attain- 
ments may  be  prized,  I  think  all  will  allow 
that  no  qualifications  can  be  of  much  value 
without  the  power  of  bringing  them  into  use. 
The  difference  I  would  point  out,  between 
the  exercise  of  the  intellect  and  that  of  the 
moral  feelings  is  this.     It  has  so  pleased  the 
all-wise  Disposer  of  our  lives,  that  the  duties 
he  has  laid  down  for  the  right  government  of 
the  human  family,  have  in  their  very  nature 


something  that  expands  and  invigorates  the 
soul ;  so  that  instead  of  being  weary  of  well- 
doing, the  character  becomes  strengthened, 
the  energies  enlivened,  and  the  whole  sphere 
of  capability  enlarged. 

Who  has  not  felt,  after  a  long  conflict  be- 
tween duty  and  inclination,  when  at  last  the 
determination  has  been  formed  and  duty  has 
been  submitted  to,  not  grudgingly,  but  from 
very  love  to  the  Father  of  mercies,  who  alone 
can  judge  what  will  eventually  promote  the 
good  of  his  weak,  erring,  and  short-sighted 
creatures — from  reverence  for  his  holy  laws, 
and  from  gratitude  to  the  Saviour  of  man- 
kind ; — who  has  not  felt  a  sudden  impulse 
of  thanksgiving  and  delight  as  they  were  en- 
abled to  make  this  decision,  a  springing  up, 
as  it  were,  of  the  soul  from  the  low  cares  and 
entanglements  of  this  world,  to  a  higher  and 
purer  state  of  existence,  where  the  motives 
and  feelings  under  which  the  choice  has  been 
made,  will  be  appreciated  and  approved,  but 
where  every  inducement  that  could  have  been 
brought  forward  to  vindicate  a  different  choice, 
would  have  been  rejected  at  the  bar  of  eternal 
justice  1 

It  is  not  the  applause  of  man  that  can  reach 
the  heart  under  such  circumstances.  No  hu- 
man eye  is  wished  for,  to  look  in  upon  our 
self-denial,  or  to  witness  the  sacrifice  we  make. 
The  good  we  have  attempted  to  do  may  even 
fail  in  its  effect  We  know  that  the  result  is 
not  with  us,  but  with  Him  who  seeth  in  se- 
cret, and  who  has  left  us  in  possession  of  this 
encouraging  assurance,  Inasmuch  as  ye  do  it 
unto  one  of  these,  ye  do  it  unto  me. 

Was  the  human  mind  ever  enfeebled,  or 
the  human  frame  exhausted,  by  feelings  of 
kindness  1  No !  The  hour  of  true  refresh- 
ment and  invigoration,  is  that  in  which  we 
do  our  duty,  whatever  It  may  be,  cheerfully 
and  humbly,  as  in  the  sight  of  God ;  not 
pluming  ourselves  upon  our  own  merit,  or 
anticipating  great  results,  but  with  a  child-like 
dependence  upon  his  promises,  and  devout 
aspirations  to  be  ever  employed  in  working 
out  his  holy  will. 

In  the  pursuit  of  intellectual  attainments, 
we  cannot  encourage  ourselves  throughout 


MODERN  EDUCATION  OF 


the  day,  nor  revive  our  wearied  energies  at 
night,  by  saying,  "It  is  for  the  love  of  my 
heavenly  Father  that  I  do  this."  But,  as  a 
very  little  child  may  be  taught,  for  the  love 
of  a  lost  parent,  to  avoid  what  that  parent 
would  have  disapproved ;  so  the  young  may 
be  cheered  and  led  onward  in  the  path  of  duty 
by  the  same  principle,  connecting  every  action 
of  their  lives  in  which  good  and  evil  may  be 
blended,  with  the  condemnation  or  approval 
of  their  Father  who  is  in  heaven. 

There  is  no  principle  in  our  nature  which 
at  the  same  time  softens  and  ennobles,  sub- 
dues and  exalts,  so  much  as  the  principle  of 
gratitude ;  and  it  ought  ever  to  be  remember- 
ed, in  numbering  our  blessings,  that  gratitude 
has  been  made  the  foundation  of  Christian 
morality.  The  ancient  philosophers  had  their 
system  of  morals,  and  a  beautiful  one  it  was. 
But  it  had  this  defect — it  had  no  sure  foun- 
dation ;  sometimes  shifting  from  expediency 
to  the  rights  of  man,  and  thus  having  no  fixed 
and  determinate  character.  The  happier  sys- 
tem under  which  we  are  privileged  to  live, 
has  all  the  advantages  acknowledged  by  the 
philosophers  of  old,  with  this  great  and  mer- 
ciful addition,  that  it  is  peculiarly  calculated 
to  wind  itself  in  with  our  affections,  by  being 
founded  upon  gratitude,  and  thus  to  excite, 
in  connection  with  the  practice  of  all  it  enjoins, 
those  emotions  of  mind  which  are  most  con- 
ducive to  our  happiness. 

Let  us  imagine  a  little  community  of  young 
women,  among  whom,  to  do  an  act  of  disin- 
terested kindness  should  be  an  object  of  the 
highest  ambition,  and  where  to  do  any  act  of 
pure  selfishness,  tending,  however  remotely, 
to  the  injury  of  another,  should  be  regarded 
as  the  deepest  disgrace ;  where  they  should 
be  accustomed  to  consider  their  time  not  as 
their  own,  but  lent  them  solely  for  the  pur- 
pose of  benefiting  their  fellow-creatures ;  and 
where  those  who  were  known  to  exercise  the 
greatest  charity  and  forbearance,  should  be 
looked  upon  as  the  most  exalted  individuals 
in  the  whole  community.  Would  these  girls 
be  weary  ?  Would  they  be  discontented,  list- 
less, and  inanimate  1  The  experiment  re- 
mains to  be  tried. 


It  is  a  frequent  and  popular  remark,  that 
girls  are  less  trouble  to  manage  in  families 
than  boys ;  and  so  unquestionably  they  are. 
But  when  their  parents  go  on  to  say  that  girls 
awaken  less  anxiety,  are  safer  and  more  easily 
brought  up,  I  am  disposed  to  think  such  pa- 
rents look  with  too  superficial  a  view  to  the 
conduct  of  their  children  before  the  world, 
rather  than  the  state  of  their  hearts  before 
God. 

It  is  true  that  girls  have  little  temptation, 
generally  speaking,  to  vice.  They  are  so 
hemmed  in  and  guarded  by  the  rules  of  so- 
ciety, that  they  must  be  destitute  almost  of 
the  common  feelings  of  human  nature,  to  be 
willing,  for  any  consideration,  to  sacrifice 
their  good  name.  But  do  such  parents  ever 
ask,  how  much  of  evil  may  be  cherished  and 
indulged  in,  and  the  good  name  retained  ?  I 
am  aware  that  among  the  generality  of  wo- 
men there  is  more  religious/eeftngthan  among 
men,  more  observance  of  the  ordinances  of 
religion,  more  reading  of  the  scriptures,  and 
more  attention  to  the  means  of  religious  in- 
formation. But  let  not  the  woman  who  sits 
in  peace,  and  unassailed  by  temptation,  in  the 
retirement  of  her  own  parlor,  look  down  with 
self-complacency  and  contempt  upon  the  open 
transgressions  of  her  erring  brother.  Rather 
let  her  weigh  in  the  scale  his  strong  passions, 
and  strong  inducements  to  evil,  and,  it  may 
be,  strong  compunctions  too,  against  her  own 
little  envyings,  bickerings,  secret  spite,  and 
soul-cherished  idolatry  of  self ;  and  then  ask 
of  her  conscience  which  is  the  furthest  in  ad- 
vance towards  the  kingdom  of  heaven. 

It  is  true,  she  has  uttered  no  profane  ex- 
pression, but  she  has  set  afloat  upon  a  winged 
whisper  the  transgression  of  her  neighbor. 
She  has  polluted  her  lips  with  no  intoxicating 
draught,  but  she  has  drunk  of  the  Circean 
cup  of  flattery,  and  acted  from  vanity  and 
self-love,  when  she  was  professing  to  act 
from  higher  motives.  She  has  run  into  no 
excesses,  but  the  excess  of  display  ;  and  she 
has  injured  no  one  by  her  bad  example,  ex- 
cept in  the  practice  of  petty  faults.  In  short, 
she  has  not  sinned  beyond  her  own  tempta- 
tions. 


THE  WOMEN  OF  ENGLAND. 


29 


One  of  the  most  striking  features  in  the 
character  of  the  young  ladies  of  the  present 
day,  is  the  absence  of  contentment.  They 
are  lively  when  excited,  but  no  sooner  does 
the  excitement  cease,  than  they  fall  back  into 
their  habitual  listlessness,  under  which  they 
so  often  complain  of  their  fate,  and  speak  of 
themselves  as  unfortunate  and  afflicted,  that 
one  would  suppose  them  to  be  the  victims  of 
adversity,  did  not  a  more  intimate  acquaint- 
ance with  their  actual  circumstances,  convince 
us  that  they  were  surrounded  by  every  thing 
conducive  to  rational  comfort.  For  the  sake 
of  the  poetry  of  the  matter,  one  would 
scarcely  deny  to  every  young  lady  her  little 
canker-worm  to  nurse  in  her  bosom,  since 
all  must  have  their  pets.  But  when  they  add 
selfishness  to  melancholy,  and  trouble  their 
friends  with  their  idle  and  fruitless  com- 
plaints, the  case  becomes  too  serious  for  a 
jest.  Indeed,  I  am  not  sure  that  the  professing 
Christian,  who  rises  every  morning  with  a 
cherished  distaste  for  the  duties  of  the  day, 
who  turns  away  when  they  present  them- 
selves, under  a  belief  that  they  are  more  diffi- 
cult or  more  disgusting  than  the  duties  of 
other  people,  who  regards  her  own  allotment 
in  the  world  as  peculiarly  hard,  and  never 
pours  forth  her  soul  in  devout  thanksgiving 
for  the  blessings  she  enjoys,  is  not  in  reality 
as  culpable  in  the  sight  of  God,  and  living  as 
much  at  variance  with  the  spirit  of  true  re- 
ligion, as  the  individual  who  spends  the 
same  portion  of  time  in  the  practice  of  more 
open  and  palpable  sin. 

It  is  an  undeniable  improvement  in  modern 
education,  that  religious  instruction  is  becom- 
ing more  general,  that  pupils  are  questioned 
in  the  knowledge  of  the  Scriptures,  instruct- 
ed in  the  truths  of  religion,  and  sent  forth 
into  the  world  prepared  to  give  an  answer 
respecting  the  general  outlines  of  Christian- 
ity. So  long,  however,  as  the  discontent 
above  alluded  to  remains  so  prevalent,  we 
must  question  the  sufficiency  of  this  method 
of  instruction ;  and  it  is  under  a  strong 
conviction,  that  to  teach  young  people  to 
talk  about  religion  is  but  a  small  part  of  what 
is  necessary  to  the  establishment  of  their 


Christian  characters,  that  I  have  ventured 
to  put  forth  what  may  be  regarded  as  crude 
remarks  upon  this  important  subject. 

I  still  cling  fondly  to  the  hope,  that,  ere 
long,  some  system  of  female  instruction  will 
be  discovered,  by  which  the  young  women  of 
England  may  be  sent  home  from  school  pre- 
pared for  the  stations  appointed  them  by 
Providence  to  fill  in  after  life,  and  prepared 
to  fill  them  well.  Then  indeed  may  this  fa- 
vored country  boast  of  her  privileges,  when 
her  young  women  return  to  their  homes  and 
their  parents,  habituated  to  be  on  the  watch 
for  every  opportunity  of  doing  good  to 
others ;  making  it  the  first  and  the  last  in- 
quiry of  every  day,  "  What  can  I  do  to  make 
my  parents,  my  brothers,  or  my  sisters,  more 
happy  ]  I  am  but  a  feeble  instrument  in  the 
hands  of  Providence,  to  work  out  any  of  his 
benevolent  designs ;  but  as  he  will  give  me 
strength,  I  hope  to  pursue  the  plan  to  which 
I  have  been  accustomed,  of  seeking  my  own 
happiness  only  in  the  happiness  of  others. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

DRESS   AND   MANNERS. 

THAT  the  extent  of  woman's  influence  is 
not  always  commensurate  with  the  cultiva- 
tion of  her  intellectual  powers,  is  a  truth 
which  the  experience  and  observation  of 
every  day  tend  to  confirm ;  for  how  often  do 
we  find  that  a  lavish  expenditure  upon  the 
means  of  acquiring  knowledge  is  productive 
of  no  adequate  result  in  the  way  of  lessening 
the  sum  of  human  misery  ! 

When  we  examine  the  real  state  of  society, 
and  single  out  the  individuals  whose  habits, 
conversation,  and  character  produce  the  hap- 
piest effect  upon  their  fellow-creatures,  we  in- 
variably find  them  persons  who  are  morally, 
rather  than  intellectually,  great ;  and  conse- 
quently the  profession  of  genius  is,  to  a  wo- 
man, a  birthright  of  very  questionable  value. 
It  is  a  remark,  not  always  charitably  made, 
but  unfortunately  too  true,  that  the  most  tal- 


30 


DRESS  AND  MANNERS  OF 


ented  women  are  not  the  most  agreeable  in 
their  domestic  capacity :  and  frequent  and 
unsparing  are  the  batteries  of  sarcasm  and 
wit,  which  consequently  open  upon  our  un- 
fortunate blues !  It  should  be  remembered, 
however,  that  the  evil  is  not  in  the  presence 
of  one  quality,  but  in  the  absence  of  an- 
other ;  and  we  ought  never  to  forget  the  re- 
deeming excellence  of  those  signal  instances, 
in  which  the  moral  worth  of  the  female 
character  is  increased  and  supported  by  in- 
tellectual power.  If,  in  order  to  maintain  a 
beneficial  influence  in  society,  superior  talent, 
or  even  a  high  degree  of  learning,  were  re- 
quired, solitary  and  insignificant  would  be 
the  lot  of  some  of  the  most  social,  benevo- 
lent, and  noble-hearted  women,  who  now  oc- 
cupy the  very  centre  of  attraction  within  their 
respective  circles,  and  claim  from  all  around 
them  a  just  and  appropriate  tribute  of  affec- 
tion and  esteem. 

It  need  scarcely  be  repeated,  that  although 
great  intellectual  attainments  are  by  no  means 
the  highest  recommendation  that  a  woman 
can  possess,  the  opposite  extreme  of  igno- 
rance, or  natural  imbecility  of  mind,  are  ef- 
fectual barriers  to  the  exercise  of  any  con- 
siderable degree  of  influence  in  society.  An 
ignorant  woman  who  has  not  the  good  sense 
to  keep  silent,  or  a  weak  woman  pleased 
with  her  own  prattle,  are  scarcely  less  an- 
noying than  humiliating  to  those  who,  from 
acquaintance  or  family  connection,  have  the 
misfortune  to  be  identified  with  them  :  yet  it 
is  surprising  how  far  a  small  measure  of  tal- 
ent, or  of  mental  cultivation,  may  be  made 
to  extend  in  the  way  of  giving  pleasure, 
when  accompanied  with  good  taste,  good 
sense,  and  good  feeling,  especially  with  that 
feeling  which  leads  the  mind  from  self  and 
selfish  motives,  into  an  habitual  regard  to  the 
good  and  happiness  of  others. 

The  more  we  reflect  upon  the  subject,  the 
more  we  must  be  convinced,  that  there  is  a 
system  of  discipline  required  for  women, 
totally  distinct  from  what  is  called  the  learn- 
ing of  the  schools,  and  that,  unless  they  can 
be  prepared  for  their  allotment  in  life  by 
some  process  calculated  to  fit  them  for  per- 


forming its  domestic  duties,  the  time  bestow- 
ed upon  their  education  will  be  found,  in  af- 
ter life,  to  have  been  wholly  inadequate  to 
procure  for  them  either  habits  of  usefulness, 
or  a  healthy  tone  of  mind. 

It  would  appear  from  a  superficial  obser- 
vation of  the  views  of  domestic  and  social 
duty  about  to  be  presented,  that,  in  the  esti- 
mation of  the  writer,  the  great  business  of  a 
woman's  life  was  to  make  herself  agreeable ; 
for  so  minute  are  some  of  the  points  which 
properly  engage  her  attention,  that  they 
scarcely  seem  to  bear  upon  the  great  ob- 
ject of  doing  good.  Yet  when  we  reflect 
that  by  giving  pleasure  in  an  innocent  and 
unostentatious  manner,  innumerable  chan- 
nels are  opened  for  administering  instruction, 
assistance,  or  consolation,  we  cease  to  regard 
as  insignificant  the  smallest  of  those  means 
by  which  a  woman  can  render  herself  an  ob- 
ject either  of  affection  or  disgust 

First,  then,  and  most  familiar  to  common 
observation,  is  her  personal  appearance ;  and 
in  this  case,  vanity,  more  potent  in  woman's 
heart  than  selfishness,  renders  it  an  object  of 
general  solicitude  to  be  so  adorned  as  best  to 
meet  and  gratify  the  public  taste.  Without 
inquiring  too  minutely  into  the  motive,  the 
custom,  as  such,  must  be  commended :  for, 
like  many  of  the  minor  virtues  of  women, 
though  scarcely  taken  note  of  in  its  immedi- 
ate presence,  it  is  sorely  missed  when  absent 
A  careless  or  slatternly  woman,  for  instance, 
is  one  of  the  most  repulsive  objects  in  crea- 
tion ;  and  such  is  the  force  of  public  opinion 
in  favor  of  the  delicacies  of  taste  and  feeling 
in  the  female  sex,  that  no  power  of  intellect, 
or  display  of  learning,  can  compensate  to 
men,  for  the  want  of  nicety  or  neatness  in 
the  women  with  whom  they  associate  in  do- 
mestic life.  In  vain  to  them  might  the  wreath 
or  laurel  wave  in  glorious  triumph  over  locks 
uncombed  ;  and  wo  betide  the  heroine,  whose 
stocking,  even  of  the  deepest  blue,  betrayed 
a  lurking  hole ! 

It  is,  however,  a  subject  too  serious  for 
jest,  and  ought  to  be  regarded  by  all  women 
with  earnest  solicitude,  that  they  may  con- 
stantly maintain  in  their  own  persons  that 


THE  WOMEN  OP  ENGLAND. 


31 


strict  attention  to  good  taste  and  delicacy  of 
feeling,  which  affords  the  surest  evidence  of 
delicacy  of  mind ;  a  quality  without  which 
no  woman  ever  was,  or  ever  will  be,  charm- 
ing. Let  her  appear  in  company  with  what 
accomplishments  she  may,  let  her  charm  by 
her  musical  talents,  attract  by  her  beauty,  or 
enliven  by  her  wit,  if  there  steal  from  under- 
neath her  graceful  drapery,  the  soiled  hem, 
the  tattered  frill,  or  even  the  coarse  garment 
out  of  keeping  with  her  external  finery,  im- 
agination naturally  carries  the  observer  to 
her  dressing-room,  her  private  habits,  and 
even  to  her  inner  mind,  where  it  is  almost 
impossible  to  believe  that  the  same  want  of 
order  and  purity  does  not  prevail. 

It  is  a  prevalent  but  most  injurious  mis- 
take, to  suppose  that  all  women  must  be 
splendidly  and  expensively  dressed,  to  re- 
commend themselves  to  general  approbation. 
In  order  to  do  this,  how  many,  in  the  sphere 
of  life  to  which  these  remarks  apply,  are  lit- 
erally destitute  of  comfort,  both  in  their  hearts 
and  in  their  homes  ;  for  the  struggle  between 
parents  and  children,  to  raise  the  means  on 
one  hand,  and  to  obtain  them  either  by  argu- 
ment or  subterfuge  on  the  other,  is  but  one 
among  the  many  sources  of  family  discord 
and  individual  suffering,  which  mark  out  the 
excess  of  artificial  wants,  as  the  great  evil  of 
the  present  times. 

A  very  slight  acquaintance  with  the  sen- 
timents and  tone  of  conversation  familiar 
among  men,  might  convince  all  whose  minds 
are  open  to  conviction,  that  their  admiration 
is  not  to  be  obtained  by  the  display  of  any 
kind  of  extravagance  in  dress.  There  may 
be  occasional  instances  of  the  contrary,  but 
the  praise  most  liberally  and  uniformly  be- 
stowed by  men  upon  the  dress  of  women,  is, 
that  it  is  neat,  becoming,  or  in  good  taste. 

The  human  mind  is  often  influenced  by 
association,  while  immediate  impression  is  all 
that  it  takes  cognizance  of  at  the  moment 
Thus  a  splendidly  dressed  woman  entering 
the  parlor  of  a  farm-house,  or  a  tradesman's 
drawing-room,  bursts  upon  the  sight  as  an 
astounding  and  almost  monstrous  spectacle 
and  we  are  scarcely  aware  that  the  repulsion 


we  instantaneously  experience,  arises  from  a 
secret  conviction  of  how  much  the  gorgeous 
'abric  must  have  cost  the  wearer,  in  time, 
and  thought,  and  money ;  especially  when 
we  known  that  the  same  individual  is  under 
he  necessity  of  spending  her  morning  hours 
n  culinary  operations,  and  is,  or  ought  to 
be,  the  sharer  of  her  husband's  daily  toil. 

There  is  scarcely  any  object  in  art  or  na- 
ture, calculated  to  excite  our  admiration, 
which  may  not,  from  being  ill-placed,  excite 
our  ridicule  or  disgust  Each  individual 
article  of  clothing  worn  by  this  woman,  may 
be  superb  in  itself,  but  there  is  a  want  of  fit- 
ness and  harmony  in  the  whole,  from  which 
we  turn  away. 

Perhaps  there  are  no  single  objects  in 
themselves  so  beautiful  as  flowers,  and  it 
might  seem  difficult  to  find  a  situation  in 
which  they  could  be  otherwise ;  yet  I  have 
seen — and  seen  with  a  feeling  almost  like 
pity — at  the  conclusion  of  a  feast,  fair  rose- 
leaves  and  sweet  jessamine  floating  amidst 
such  inappropriate  elements,  that  all  their 
beauty  was  despoiled,  and  they  were  fit  only 
to  be  cast  away  with  the  refuse  of  gross 
matter  in  which  they  were  involved. 

Admiration  of  a  beautiful  object,  how  in- 
tense soever  it  may  be,  cannot  impart  that 
high  tone  of  intellectual  enjoyment  which 
arises  from  our  admiration  of  fitness  and 
beauty  combined ;  and  thus  the  richest  silk, 
and  the  finest  lace,  when  inappropriately 
worn,  are  beautifully  manufactured  articles, 
but  nothing  more.  While,  therefore,  on  the 
one  hand,  there  is  a  moral  degradation  in  the 
consciousness  of  wearing  soiled  or  disreputa- 
ble garments,  or  being  in  any  way  below  the 
average  of  personal  decency,  there  is,  on  the 
other,  a  gross  violation  of  good  taste,  in  as- 
suming for  the  middle  classes  of  society 
whose  occupations  are  closely  connectec 
with  the  means  of  bodily  subsistence,  the 
same  description  of  personal  ornament  as 
belongs  with  more  propriety  to  those  who 
enjoy  the  luxury  of  giving  orders,  without 
any  necessity  for  further  occupation  of  time 
and  thought. 
The  most  frequently  recurring  perplexities 


32 


DRESS  AND  MANNERS  OF 


of  woman's  life  arise  from  cases  which  re- 
ligion does  not  immediately  reach,  and  in 
which  she  is  still  expected  to  decide  properly 
and  act  agreeably,  without  any  other  law 
than  that  of  good  taste  for  her  guide.  Good 
taste  is  therefore  most  essential  to  the  regula- 
tion of  her  dress  and  general  appearance ; 
and  wherever  any  striking  violation  of  this 
principle  appears,  the  beholder  is  immediate- 
ly impressed  with  the  idea  that  a  very  im- 
portant rule  of  her  life  and  conduct  is  want- 
ing. It  is  not  all  who  possess  this  guide 
within  themselves  ;  but  an  attentive  observa- 
tion of  human  life  and  character,  especially 
a  due  regard  to  the  beauty  of  fitness,  would 
enable  all  to  avoid  giving  offence  in  this  par- 
ticular way. 

The  regard  to  fitness  here  recommended, 
is  a  duty  of  much  more  serious  importance 
than  would  at  first  sight  appear,  since  it  in- 
volves a  consideration  which  cannot  too  often 
be  presented  to  the  mind,  of  what,  and  who 
we  are  ? — what  is  the  station  we  are  appoint- 
ed to  fill,  and  what  the  objects  for  which  we 
are  living  1 

Behold  yon  gorgeous  fabric  in  the  distance, 
with  its  rainbow  hues,  and  gems,  and  shining 
drapery, 

"And  flowers  the  fairest,  that  might  feast  the  bee." 

A  coronet  of  beauty  crowns  the  whole,  and 
feathery  ornaments,  on  frail  silvery  threads, 
glitter  and  wave,  and  tremble  at  every  mov- 
ing breath.  Surely  the  countenance  of  Flora 
blooms  below,  and  Zephyrus  suspends  his 
gentle  wings  at  her  approach.  The  spectacle 
advances.  It  is  not  health,  nor  youth,  nor 
beauty  that  we  see ;  but  poor,  decrepit,  help- 
less, miserable  old  age.  We  gaze,  and  a 
shudder  comes  over  us,  for  Death  is  grinning 
in  the  background,  and  we  hear  his  voice 
triumphantly  exclaiming,  "This  is  mine  !" 

Look  at  that  moving  garden,  and  those 
waving  plumes,  as  they  pass  along  the  aisle 
of  the  church  or  the  chapel.  They  form  the 
adornment  of  a  professedly  Christian  woman, 
the  mother  of  a  family  ;  and  this  is  the  day 
appointed  for  partaking  of  that  ordinance  to 
which  Christians  are  invited  to  come  :n  meek- 


ness and  lowliness  of  spirit,  to  commemorate 
the  love  of  their  Redeemer,  who,  though  he 
was  rich,  for  their  sakes  became  poor — who 
humbled  himself,  and  became  obedient  unto 
death,  to  purchase  their  exemption  from  the 
penalty  of  sin,  and  the  bondage  of  the  world. 

We  would  earnestly  hope  that,  in  the 
greater  number  of  such  cases  as  these,  the 
error  is  in  the  judgment  —  the  mockery 
thoughtlessly  assumed :  but  would  not  the 
habit  of  self-examination,  followed  up  by  seri- 
ous inquiry  respecting  our  real  and  individ- 
ual position  in  society,  as  moral  agents,  and 
immortal  beings,  be  a  likely  means  of  avert- 
ing the  ridicule  that  age  is  ill  prepared  to 
bear  ;  and,  what  is  of  infinitely  more  conse- 
quence, of  preventing  the  scandal  that  reli- 
gion has  too  much  cause  to  charge  upon  her 
friends  ? 

It  frequently  happens  that  women  in  the 
middle  class  of  society  are  not  entirely  free 
from  provincialisms  in  their  manner  of  speak- 
ing, as  well  as  other  peculiarities,  by  which 
it  may  easily  be  discovered  that  their  interests 
are  local,  and  their  means  of  information  of 
limited  extent ;  in  short,  that  they  are  persons 
who  have  but  little  acquaintance  with  the 
polite  or  fashionable  world,  and  yet  they  may 
be  persons  highly  estimable  and  important  in 
their  own  sphere.  Very  little  either  of  esteem 
or  importance,  however,  attaches  to  their 
characters,  where  their  ingenuity  is  taxed  to 
maintain  what  they  believe  to  be  a  fashion- 
able or  elegant  exterior,  and  which,  in  con- 
nection with  their  unpolished  dialect  and 
homely  occupations,  renders  them  but  too 
much  like  the  chimney-sweeper's  queen 
decked  out  for  a  May-day  exhibition.  The 
invidious  question  unavoidably  occurs  to  the 
beholder — for  what  or  for  whom  has  such  a 
person  mistaken  herself?  while,  had  she 
been  dressed  in  a  plain  substantial  costume, 
corresponding  with  her  mind  and  habits,  she 
might  have  been  known  at  once,  and  re- 
spected for  what  she  really  was, — a  rational, 
independent,  and  valuable  member  of  society. 

It  is  not,  by  any  means,  the  smallest  of  the 
services  required  by  Christian  charity,  to 
point  out  to  our  fellow-countrywomen  how 


THE  WOMEN  OF  ENGLAND. 


33 


they  may  avoid  being  ridiculous.  Perhaps 
a  higher  degree  of  intellectual  dignity  would 
raise  us  all  above  the  weakness  of  being 
moved  to  laughter  by  so  slight  a  cause.  But 
such  is  the  constitution  of  the  general  order 
of  minds,  that  they  are  less  entertained  by 
the  most  pointed  witticisms,  than  by  those 
striking  contrasts  and  discrepancies,  which 
seem  to  imply  that  rusticity  has  mistaken 
itself  for  elegance,  deformity  for  beauty,  age 
for  youth.  I  pretend  not  to  defend  this  pro- 
pensity to  turn  so  serious  a  mistake  into  jest 
I  merely  say  that  such  a  propensity  does 
exist,  and,  what  is  among  the  anomalies  of 
our  nature,  that  it  sometimes  exhibits  itself 
most  unreservedly  in  the  very  individuals 
who  in  their  turn  are  furnishing  food  for 
merriment  to  others. 

The  laughing  philosopher  might  have  rea- 
soned thus,  "  Let  them  all  laugh  on,  they  will 
cure  each  other."  But  the  question  is — does 
ridicule  correct  the  evil  7  Most  assuredly  it 
does  not.  It  does  something  more,  however. 
It  rankles  like  a  poison  in  the  bosom  where 
it  falls,  and  destroys  the  peace  of  many  an 
amiable  but  ill-judging  candidate  for  public 
admiration.  Women,  especially,  are  its  vic- 
tims and  its  prey  ;  and  well  do  they  learn, 
under  the  secret  tutelage  of  envy,  jealousy, 
and  pride,  how  to  make  this  engine  of  discord 
play  upon  each  other. 

When  we  listen  to  the  familiar  conversa- 
tion of  women,  especially  of  those  whose 
minds  are  tainted  by  vulgarity,  and  unen- 
lightened by  the  higher  principles  of  religion, 
we  find  that  a  very  large  portion  of  their  time 
and  attention  is  bestowed  upon  the  subject 
of  dress — not  of  their  own  dress  merely,  but 
of  that  of  their  neighbors ;  and  looking  fur- 
ther, we  find,  what  is  more  astonishing,  that 
there  exists  in  connection  with  the  same 
subject,  a  degree  of  rivalry  and  ambition 
which  call  forth  many  of  the  evil  passions 
that  are  ever  ready  to  spring  into  action,  and 
mar  the  pleasant  pictures  of  social  life.  In 
awakening  these,  the  ridicule  already  alluded 
to  is  a  powerful  agent ;  for,  like  the  most  in- 
jurious of  libels,  it  adheres  so  nearly  to  the 
truth,  as  to  set  contradiction  at  defiance. 


Thus,  there  are  few  persons  who  would  not 
rather  be  maligned  than  ridiculed  ;  and  thus 
the  wounds  inflicted  by  ridicule  are  the  most 
difficult  to  heal,  and  the  last  to  be  forgiven. 

Surely,  then,  it  is  worth  paying  regard  to 
the  principles  of  fitness  and  consistency,  in 
order  to  avoid  the  consequences  necessarily 
resulting  from  every  striking  deviation  from 
these  rules  ;  and  the  women  of  England  pos- 
sess many  advantages  in  the  cultivation  of 
their  natural  powers  of  discrimination  and 
reason,  for  enabling  them  to  ascertain  the  pre- 
cise position  of  this  line  of  conduct,  which  it 
is  so  important  to  them  to  observe.  They 
are  free  from  many  of  the  national  prejudices 
entertained  by  the  women  of  other  countries, 
and  they  enjoy  the  inestimable  privilege  of 
being  taught  to  look  up  to  a  higher  standard 
of  morals,  for  the  right  guidance  of  their  con- 
duct It  is  to  them,  therefore,  that  we  look 
for  what  rational  and  useful  women  ought  to 
be,  not  only  in  the  essentials  of  Christian 
character,  but  in  the  minor  points  of  social, 
domestic,  and  individual  duty. 

Much  that  has  been  said  on  the  subject  of 
dress,  is  equally  applicable  to  that  of  manners. 
Fitness  and  adaptation,  are  here,  as  well  as  in 
the  former  instance,  the  general  rule  ;  for  of 
what  value  is  elegance  in  a  cottage,  or  the 
display  of  animal  strength  at  a  European 
court! 

In  the  middle  walks  of  life,  an  easy  man- 
ner, free  from  affectation  on  the  one  hand, 
and  grossness  on  the  other,  is  all  that  is  re- 
quired ;  and  such  are,  or  ought  to  be,  the  oc- 
cupations of  all  women  of  this  class,  as  most 
happily  to  induce  such  habits  of  activity  and 
free-agency,  as  would  effectually  preserve 
them  from  the  two  extremes  of  coldness  and 
frivolous  absurdity. 

The  grand  error  of  the  day  seems  to  be, 
that  of  calling  themselves  ladies,  when  it 
ought  to  be  their  ambition  to  be  women, — 
women  who  fill  a  place,  and  occupy  a  post — 
members  of  the  commonwealth — supporters 
of  the  fabric  of  society, — the  minor  wheels 
and  secret  springs  of  the  great  machine  of 
human  life  and  action,  which  cannot  move 
harmoniously,  nor  with  full  effect  to  the  ac- 


34 


DRESS  AND  MANNERS  OF 


complishment  of  any  great  or  noble  purpose, 
while  clogged  with  the  lovely  burdens,  and 
impeded  by  the  still-life  attitudes  of  those 
useless  members  of  the  community,  who  cast 
themselves  about  on  every  hand,  in  the  vain 
hope  of  being  valued  and  admired  for  doing 
nothing. 

Among  the  changes  introduced  by  modern 
taste,  it  is  not  the  least  striking,  that  all  the 
daughters  of  trades-people,  when  sent  to 
school,  are  no  longer  girls,  but  young  ladies. 
The  linen-draper  whose  worthy  consort  oc- 
cupies her  daily  post  behind  the  counter,  re- 
ceives her  child  from  Mrs.  Montague's  estab- 
lishment— a  young  lady.  At  the  same  ele- 
gant and  expensive  seminary,  music  and 
Italian  are  taught  to  Hannah  Smith,  whose 
father  deals  in  Yarmouth  herrings ;  and  there 
is  the  butcher's  daughter,  too,  perhaps  the 
most  lady-like  of  them  all.  The  manners  of 
these  young  ladies  naturally  take  their  tone 
and  character  from  the  ridiculous  assump- 
tions of  modern  refinement  The  butcher's 
daughter  is  seized  with  nausea  at  the  spec- 
tacle of  raw  meat — Hannah  Smith  is  incapa- 
ble of  existing  within  the  atmosphere  of  her 
father's  home— and  the  child  of  the  linen- 
draper  elopes  with  a  merchant's  clerk,  to 
avoid  the  dire  necessity  of  assisting  in  her 
father's  shop. 

What  a  catalogue  of  miseries  might  be 
made  out,  as  the  consequence  of  this  mis- 
taken ambition  of  the  women  of  England  to 
be  ladies !  Gentlewomen  they  may  be,  and 
refined  women  too ;  for  when  did  either  gen- 
tleness or  true  refinement  disqualify  a  woman 
for  her  proper  duties  1  But  that  assumption 
of  delicacy  which  unfits  them  for  the  real 
business  of  life,  is  more  to  be  dreaded  in  its 
fatal  influence  upon  their  happiness,  than  the 
most  agonizing  disease  with  which  they  could 
be  afflicted. 

It  is  needless  to  say  that  women  of  this 
morbid,  imbecile  character  have  no  influence. 
They  are  so  occupied  with  the  minutiae  of 
their  own  personal  miseries,  that  they  have 
no  time  to  think  of  the  sin  and  the  sorrow 
existing  in  the  world  around  them.  What- 
ever is  proposed  to  them  in  the  way  of  doing 


good,  is  sure  to  meet  with  a  listless,  weary, 
murmuring  denial ;  for  if  the  hundred-and- 
one  objections,  arising  out  of  other  fancied 
causes,  should  be  obviated,  there  are  their 
endless  and  inexhaustible  nerves.  Alas,  alas ! 
that  English  women  should  ever  have  found 
themselves  out  to  be  possessed  of  nerves ! 
Not  the  most  exquisite  creation  of  the  poet's 
fancy  was  ever  supposed  to  be  more  suscep- 
tible of  pain  than  is  now  the  highly-educated 
young  lady,  who  reclines  upon  a  couch  in  an 
apartment  slightly  separated  from  that  in 
which  her  father  sells  his  goods,  and  but  one 
remove  from  the  sphere  of  her  mother's  cu- 
linary toil. 

How  different  from  this  feeble,  discontent- 
ed, helpless  thing,  is  the  woman  who  shows 
by  her  noble  bearing  that  she  knows  her  true 
position  in  society;  and  who  knows  also, 
that  the  virtue  and  the  value  attaching  to 
her  character  must  be  in  exact  proportion  to 
the  benefit  she  confers  upon  her  fellow-crea- 
tures;— above  all,  who  feels  that  the  only 
Being  who  is  capable  of  knowing  what  is 
ultimately  best,  has  seen  meet  to  place  her 
exactly  where  the  powers  of  her  mind  and 
the  purposes  of  her  life  may  be  made  most 
conducive  to  his  merciful  and  wise  designs ! 
Not  the  meanest  habiliments,  nor  the  most 
homely  personal  aspect,  can  conceal  the 
worth  and  the  dignity  of  such  a  woman ; 
and  whatever  that  position  with  which  she 
has  made  herself  so  well  acquainted  may  be, 
she  will  find  that  her  influence  extends  to  its 
remotest  circle. 

It  is  impossible  to  say  what  the  manners 
of  such  a  woman  are.  In  the  cottage,  in  the 
court,  in  the  daily  and  hourly  performance 
of  social  services,  they  are,  and  must  be, 
characterized  by  the  same  attributes — gene- 
ral adaptation  supported  by  dignity,  a  high 
sense  of  duty  predominating  over  every  ten- 
dency to  selfish  indulgence,  and  prompting 
to  the  performance  of  every  kind  of  practical 
good,  a  degree  of  self-respect,  without  which 
no  talent  can  be  matured,  and  no  purpose 
rendered  firm ;  yet,  along  with  this,  a  far 
higher  degree  of  respect  for  others,  exhibited 
in  modes  of  deference,  and  acts  of  considera- 


THE  WOMEN  OF  ENGLAND. 


35 


tion  as  various  as  the  different  characters 
whose  good  or  whose  happiness  are  the  sub- 
jects of  her  care  ;  and,  lastly,  that  sweet  sis- 
ter of  benevolence,  charily,  without  which  no 
woman  ever  yet  could  make  herself  a  desira- 
ble companion  or  friend. 

It  may  be  said  that  these  are  virtues,  not 
modes  of  conduct ;  but  how  much  of  virtue, 
particularly  that  of  charity,  may  be  implied 
and  understood  by  what  is  commonly  called 
I  manner !  That  which  in  the  present  day  is 
considered  the  highest  attainment  in  this 
branch  of  conduct,  is  a  lady-like  manner,  and 
it  is  one  that  well  deserves  the  attention  of 
all  who  wish  to  recommend  themselves — 
who  wish,  as  all  must  do,  to  ward  off  insult- 
ing familiarity,  and  court  respectful  consider- 
ation. There  are,  however,  many  impres- 
sions conveyed  to  the  minds  of  others  by 
mere  manner,  far  exceeding  this  in  interest 
and  importance.  What,  for  instance,  is  so 
consoling  to  the  afflicted  as  a  sympathizing 
manner  7  The  direct  expression  of  sympathy 
might  possibly  give  pain  ;  but  there  is  a  man- 
ner, and  happy  are  they  who  possess  it, 
which  conveys  a  silent  invitation  to  the  sor- 
sowing  soul  to  unburden  its  griefs,  with  an 
assurance  that  it  may  do  so  without  fear  of 
treachery  or  unkindness.  There  seems  to 
be  an  instinct  in  our  nature  by  which  this 
mode  of  expressing  sympathy  is  rendered 
intelligible ;  and  who  that  has  any  thing  to 
do  with  sorrow  or  suffering,  or  any  wish  to 
alleviate  the  pressure  of  either,  would  not 
desire  that  their  manner  should  be  so  fraught 
with  sympathy  as  to  impart  the  consolation 
they  may  be  unable  to  express  in  words  ? 

Who,  on  the  other  hand,  in  a  world  which 
all  the  afflicted  are  disposed  to  consider  cold 
and  unfeeling,  has  not  felt  what  it  was,  to 
meet  with  that  peculiar  tone  of  voice,  that 
long,  earnest  gaze  of  the  eye,  and  that  watch- 
fulness of  personal  comfort,  which  belong  to 
a  degree  of  interest  deeper  than  can  be  told, 
and  which  convince  beyond  the  power  of 
language,  that  we  are  not — we  cannot  be 
overlooked  or  forgotten  1  How  many  an 
alien  has  been  invited  to  return  by  a  look,  a 
tone,  a  gesture,  when  no  power  of  speech 


would  have  conveyed  the  same  impression 
of  a  welcome  !  How  many  a  prejudice  has 
been  overcome — how  many  a  dangerous  res- 
olution broken — how  many  a  dark  design 
defeated  by  a  conciliating  and  confiding  man- 
ner1? And  may  it  not  also  be  asked,  how 
many  an  insult  has  been  repelled  by  a  man- 
ner fraught  with  dignity ;  how  many  an  in- 
jury has  been  returned  into  the  bosom  where 
it  originated,  by  a  manner  which  conveyed 
all  the  bitterness  of  cherished  and  determined 
revenge  1 

To  those  who  make  the  human  mind  their 
study,  the  mode  of  acting  is  of  more  import- 
ance than  the  action  itself;  and  to  women  it 
is  especially  so,  because  the  sphere  in  which 
they  actually  move  is  comparatively  limited 
and  obscure.  It  is  seldom  regarded  as  con- 
sistent with  that  delicacy  which  forms  so 
great  a  charm  in  their  nature,  that  they 
should  act  out  to  their  full  extent  all  the  deep 
feelings  of  which  they  are  capable.  Thus 
there  is  no  other  channel  for  their  perpetual 
overflow,  than  that  of  their  manners ;  and 
thus  a  sensitive  and  ingenuous  woman  can 
exhibit  much  of  her  own  character,  and  lead 
others  out  into  the  display  of  much  of  theirs, 
simply  by  the  instrumentality  of  her  manners  ; 
and,  upon  the  same  principle,  that  good  breed- 
ing which  obtains  the  highest  applause  in 
society,  is  but  an  imitation  or  assumption  of 
every  moral  excellence,  depicted  on  a  minor 
scale. 

Good  manners  are  the  small-coin  of  virtue, 
distributed  abroad  as  an  earnest — we  will  not 
ask  how  fallacious — of  the  greater  and  better 
things  that  lie  beyond.  The  women  of  Eng- 
land are  becoming  increasingly  solicitous 
about  their  manners,  that  they  may  in  all 
points  resemble  such  as  prevail  in  a  higher 
circle  of  society,  and  be,  consequently,  the 
best.  But  would  it  not  be  more  advantage- 
ous to  them,  to  bestow  the  same  increase  of 
solicitude  upon  what  constitutes  the  true 
foundation  of  all  that  is  amiable  and  excel- 
lent in  life  and  conduct?  Would  it  not  be 
more  advantageous  to  them  to  remember, 
that  in  the  sphere  of  life  appointed  for  them 
to  fill,  stronger  and  more  efficient  traits  of 


DRESS  AND  MANNERS  OP 


character  are  required,  than  can  possibly  be 
classed  under  the  epithet  of  lady-like  1  Not 
that  coarseness  ox  vulgarity  of  manner  could 
ever  be  tolerated  in  those  delicate  intimacies, 
and  intellectual  associations,  which  properly 
belong  to  the  class  of  women  of  whom  Eng- 
land had  once  a  right  to  boast— intimacies 
and  associations,  intervening  like  gleams  of 
sunshine,  between  their  seasons  of  perplex- 
ity and  care ;  but  the  manners  I  would  earn- 
estly recommend  to  my  countrywomen,  are 
of  a  character  calculated  to  convey  an  idea 
of  much  more  than  refinement;  they  are  man- 
ners to  which  a  high  degree  of  moral  influence 
belong?,  inasmuch  as  they  inspire  confidence, 
command  esteem,  and  contribute  to  the  gene- 
ral sum  of  human  happiness. 

Adaptation  is  the  leading  feature  in  this 
class  of  manners — adaptation  not  only  to  the 
circumstances  of  the  person  who  acts  and 
speaks,  but  also  to  the  circumstances  of  those 
upon  whom  such  speech  or  action  operates. 
A  light,  careless,  sportive  manner  is  some- 
times thought  exceedingly  charming;  and 
when  it  emanates  from  youth  and  innocence, 
can  scarcely  fail  to  please  ;  but  when  such  a 
manner  is  affected  by  a  woman  of  ponderous 
personal  weight,  of  naturally  grave  coun- 
tenance, and  responsible  station  in  society, 
none  can  avoid  being  struck  with  the  obvious 
anomaly,  and  few  can  avoid  being  moved  to 
laughter  or  contempt 

In  English  society  it  frequently  happens 
that  persons  of  humble  parentage,  and  homely 
station,  in  early  life,  are  raised,  by  the  acqui- 
sition of  wealth,  to  the  enjoyment  of  luxu- 
rious indulgence.  How  absurd  in  such  cases, 
is  that  assumption  of  delicacy  and  of  aristo- 
cratic dignity  which  we  too  often  see,  and 
which  is  sure  to  give  rise  to  every  variety 
of  uncharitable  remark  upon  what  they  and 
their  families  have  been  ! 

Self-importance,  or  rather  a  prevailing 
consciousness  of  Belt  is  the  most  universal 
hindrance  to  the  attainment  of  agreeable 
manners.  A  woman  of  delicate  feelings  and 
cultivated  mind,  who  goes  into  company  de- 
termined to  be  interested,  rather  than  to  in- 
terest, can  scarcely  fail  to  please.  We  are 


assured,  however,  that  in  this  respect  there 
is  something  very  defective  in  the  present 
state  of  society.  All  desire  to  make  an  im- 
pression, none  to  be  impressed ;  and  thus 
the  social  intercourse  of  every  day  is  ren- 
dered wearisome,  if  not  disgusting,  by  the 
constant  struggle  of  each  contending  party 
to  assume  the  same  relative  position. 

An  instance  relating  immediately  to  an  an- 
imal of  inferior  grade  in  the  creation  to  man, 
but  bearing  some  affinity  to  the  case  in  point, 
is  told  by  a  traveller,  whose  party  having 
shot  several  old  monkeys,  took  home  their 
young  ones  to  the  camp  where  he  was  sta- 
tioned. He  amused  himself  in  the  evening 
by  watching  these  little  animals,  which  had 
been  so  accustomed  to  be  caressed  and  car- 
ried about  by  their  parents,  that  they  ex- 
pected the  same  services  from  each  other, 
and  by  their  persevering  efforts  to  obtain  as- 
sistance from  those  who  in  an  equal  degree 
required  it  from  them,  formed  themselves 
into  a  tumultuous  heap,  arid  nearly  worried 
each  other  to  death. 

It  might  be  invidious  to  compare  the  tu- 
mult of  feeling,  the  weariness,  and  the  fatality 
to  happiness  experienced  by  these  animals, 
to  that  which  is  produced  by  the  general  de- 
sire to  make  an  impression,  in  modern  so- 
ciety ;  but  none  can  be  blind  to  the  fact,  that 
a  determination  to  be  pleased  in  company,  is 
the  surest  means  of  giving  pleasure,  as  well 
as  of  receiving  it 

A  young  lady  who  has  not  had  an  oppor- 
tunity of  conversing,  of  playing,  or  of  show- 
ing off  in  any  other  way,  is  almost  sure  to 
return  from  an  evening  party  complaining  of 
its  dulness,  and  discontented  with  hersellj  as 
well  as  with  every  one  besides.  Ask  her  if 
such  and  such  agreeable  and  intelligent  per- 
sons were  not  present ;  and  she  answers, 
"  Yes."  Ask  her  if  they  did  not  converse, 
and  converse  pleasantly ;  and  still  she  an- 
swers, "Yes."  What  then?  The  fact  is, 
she  has  herself  made  no  impression,  charmed 
nobody,  and  therefore,  as  a  necessary  conse- 
quence, she  is  not  charmed. 

How  much  more  happiness  does  that  wo- 
man experience,  who,  when  in  company,  di- 


THE  WOMEN  OF  ENGLAND. 


37 


rects  her  attention  to  her  nearest  neighbor  ; 
and,  beholding  a  cheerful  countenance,  or 
hearing  a  pleasant  voice,  is  encouraged  to 
proceed  in  cultivating  an  acquaintance,  which 
may  ultimately  ripen  into  friendship,  may 
teach  her  some  useful  lesson,  or  raise  her 
estimate  of  her  fellow-creatures.  Even  where 
no  such  agreeable  results  are  experienced, 
where  the  party  attempted  proves  wholly 
impracticable,  there  is  still  a  satisfaction  in 
having  made  the  trial,  far  beyond  what  can 
be  experienced  by  any  defeated  attempt  to 
be  agreeable.  Indeed  the  disappointment  of 
having  failed  to  make  a  pleasing  impression 
merely  for  the  purpose  of  gratifying  our  own 
vanity,  without  reference  to  the  happiness 
of  others,  is  adapted  in  an  especial  man- 
ner to  sour  the  temper,  and  depress  the 
mind ;  because  we  feel  along  with  the  disap- 
pointment, a  mortifying  consciousness  that 
our  ambition  has  been  of  an  undignified  and 
selfish  kind  ;  while,  if  our  endeavor  has 
been  to  contribute  to  the  general  sum  of  so- 
cial enjoyment,  by  encouraging  the  diffident, 
cultivating  the  acquaintance  of  the  amiable, 
and  stimulating  latent  talent,  we  cannot  feel 
depressed  by  such  a  failure,  nor  mortified  at 
our  want  of  success. 

The  great  question  with  regard  to  modern 
education  is,  which  of  these  two  classes  of 
feeling  does  it  instil  into  the  mind — does  it 
inspire  the  young  women  of  the  present  day 
with  an  amiable  desire  to  make  everybody 
happy  around  them  1  or  does  it  teach  them 
only  to  sing,  and  play,  and  speak  in  foreign 
languages,  and  consequently  leave  them  to 
be  the  prey  of  their  own  disappointed  feel- 
ings, whenever  they  find  it  impossible  to 
make  any  of  these  qualifications  tell  upon 
society. 


CHAPTER  V. 

COJTVERSATION  OF  THE  WOMEN  OF  ENGLAND. 

IT  may  not,  perhaps,  be  asking  too  much 
of  the  reader,  to  request  that  gentle  person- 


age to  bear  in  mind,  that  in  speaking  both  of 
the  characteristics  and  the  influence  of  a  cer- 
tain class  of  females,  strict  reference  has 
been  maintained,  throughout  the  four  pre- 
ceding chapters,  to  such  as  may  with  justice 
be  denominated  true  English  women.  With 
puerile  exotics,  bending  from  their  own  fee- 
bleness, and  wandering,  like  weeds,  about 
the  British  garden  to  the  hindrance  of  the 
growth  of  all  useful  plants,  this  work  has 
little  to  do,  except  to  point  out  how  they 
might  have  been  cultivated  to  better  purpose. 

I  have  said  of  English  women,  that  they 
are  the  best  fireside  companions;  but  I  am 
afraid  that  my  remark  must  apply  to  a  very 
small  portion  of  the  community  at  large. 
The  number  of  those  who  are  wholly  desti- 
tute of  the  highest  charm  belonging  to  social 
companionship,  is  lamentably  great :  and 
these  pages  would  never  have  been  obtruded 
upon  the  notice  of  the  public,  if  there  were 
not  strong  symptoms  of  the  number  becom- 
ing greater  still. 

Women  have  the  choice  of  many  means 
of  bringing  their  principles  into  exercise,  and 
of  obtaining  influence,  both  in  their  own  do- 
mestic sphere,  and  in  society  at  large.  Among 
the  most  important  of  these  is  conversation ; 
an  engine  so  powerful  upon  the  minds  and 
characters  of  mankind  in  general,  that  beauty 
fades  before  it,  and  wealth  in  comparison  is 
but  as  leaden  coin.  If  match-making  were 
indeed  the  great  object  of  human  life,  I 
should  scarcely  dare  to  make  this  assertion, 
since  few  men  choose  women  for  their  con- 
versation, where  wealth  or  beauty  are  to  be 
had.  I  must,  however,  think  more  nobly 
of  the  female  sex,  and  believe  them  more  so- 
licitous to  maintain  affection  after  the  match 
is  made,  than  simply  to  be  led  to  the  altar,  as 
wives  whose  influence  will  that  day  be  laid 
aside  with  their  wreaths  of  white  roses,  and 
laid  aside  forever. 

If  beauty  or  wealth  have  been  the  bait  in 
this  connection,  the  bride  may  gather  up  her 
wreath  of  roses,  and  place  them  again  upon 
her  polished  brow  ;  nay,  she  may  bestow  the 
treasures  of  her  wealth  without  reserve,  and 
permit  the  husband  of  her  choice  to 


CONVERSATION  OF 


"  spoil  bar  goodly  land*  to  gild  hu  waste ;" 
she  may  do  what  she  will — dress,  bloom,  or 
descend  from  affluence  to  poverty ;  but  if 
she  has  no  intellectual  hold  upon  her  hus- 
band's heart,  she  must  inevitably  become 
that  most  helpless  and  pitiable  of  earthly  ob- 
jects—a slighted  wife. 

Conversation,  understood  in  its  proper 
character,  as  distinct  from  mere  talk,  might 
rescue  her  from  this.  Not  conversation  up- 
on books,  if  her  husband  happens  to  be  a 
fox-hunter ;  nor  upon  fox-hunting,  if  he  is  a 
book-worm ;  but  exactly  that  kind  of  conver- 
.tion  which  is  best  adapted  to  his  tastes  and 
habits,  yet  at  the  same  time  capable  of  lead- 
ing him  a  little  out  of  both  into  a  wider  field 
of  observation,  and  subjects  he  may  never 
have  derived  amusement  from  before,  simply 
from  the  fact  of  their  never  having  been  pre- 
sented to  his  notice. 

How  pleasantly  the  evening  hours  may  be 
made  to  pass,  when  a  woman  who  really  can 
converse,  will  thus  beguile  the  time !  But,  on 
the  other  hand,  how  wretched  is  the  portion 
of  that  man  who  dreads  the  dulness  of  his 
own  fireside — who  sees  the  clog  of  his  exist- 
ence ever  seated  there — the  same,  in  the 
deadening  influence  she  has  upon  his  spirit?, 
to-day,  as  yesterday,  to-morrow,  and  the  next 
day,  and  the  next !  Welcome,  thrice  wel- 
come, is  the  often-invited  visiter,  who  breaks 
the  dismal  dual  of  this  scene. 

Married  women  are  often  spoken  of  in 
high  terms  of  commendation  for  their  per- 
sonal services,  their  handiwork,  and  their  do- 
mestic management ;  but  I  am  inclined  to 
think  that  a  married  woman,  possessing  all 
these,  and  even  beauty  too,  yet  wanting  con- 
versation, might  become  "  weary,  stale,  flat, 
and  unprofitable,"  in  the  estimation  of  her 
husband  ;  and,  finally,  might  drive  him  from 
his  home  by  the  leaden  weight  of  her  uncom- 
panionable society. 

I  know  not  whether  other  minds  have  felt 
(he  same  as  mine  under  the  pressure  of  some 
personal  presence  without  fellowship  of  feel- 
ing. Innocent  and  harmless  the  individual 
may  be  who  thus  inflicts  the  grievance?  yet 
there  is  an  irksomeness  in  their  mere  bodily 


presence  almost  intolerable  to  be  borne  ;  and 
in  proportion  to  the  estimate  we  form  of  real 
society,  and  companionship,  and  sympathy 
of  feeling,  is  the  dread  we  entertain  of  asso- 
ciation with  mere  animal  life  in  its  human 
form,  while  nothing  of  this  fellowship  of  feel- 
ing is  experienced. 

There  cannot,  however,  be  a  greater  mis- 
take in  the  science  of  being  agreeable,  than 
to  suppose  that  conversation  must  be  made 
a  business  of.  Oh  !  the  misery  of  being  pit- 
ted against  a  professional  converser! — one 
who  looks  from  side  to  side  until  a  vacant 
ear  is  found,  and  commences  a  battery  of 
declamation  if  you  will  not  answer,  and  of 
argument  if  you  will.  Indeed,  the  immense 
variety  of  annoyances  deducible  from  ill- 
managed  conversation,  are  a  sufficient  proof 
of  its  importance  in  society ;  and  any  one 
disposed  to  dispute  this  fact,  need  only  recall 
the  many  familiar  instances  of  disappoint- 
ment and  chagrin  which  all  who  mix  in  any 
manner  with  what  is  called  the  world,  must 
have  experienced,  from  mistaken  views  of 
what  is  agreeable  in  conversation. 

It  would  be  vain  to  attempt  an  enumera- 
tion of  the  different  aspects  under  which  this 
peculiar  kind  of  annoyance  presents  itself. 
A  few  heads  will  be  sufficient,  under  which 
to  range  the  different  classes  of  injudicious 
talkers.  First,  then,  we  naturally  think  of 
those  who  have  obtained  the  conventional 
appellation  of  bores,  or,  to  describe  them 
more  politely,  the  class  of  talkers  whose 
over-solicitude  is  proportioned  to  their  diffi- 
culty in  obtaining  patient  hearers.  These, 
again,  may  be  subdivided  into  endless  varie- 
ties, of  which  a  few  specimens  will  suffice. 
Yet  among  all  these,  even  the  most  inveter- 
ate, may  be  found  worthy  individuals,  whose 
qualifications  for  imparting  both  instruction 
and  amusement  are  by  no  means  contempti- 
ble. 

Entitled  to  distinction  in  the  art  of  annoy- 
ance are  the  hobby-riders — those  who  not 
only  ride  a  favorite  hobby  themselves,  but 
expect  every  one  they  meet  with  to  mount 
and  ride  the  same.  It  matters  not  whether 
their  ruling  subject  be  painting  or  politics, 


THE  WOMEN  OF  ENGLAND. 


39 


except  that  minds  devoted  to  the  fine  arts 
have  generally  about  them  some  delicacy  as 
to  the  reception  of  their  favorites,  and  are 
too  shrinkingly  alive  to  the  slights  it  may  re- 
ceive, to  risk  its  introduction  -without  some 
indication  of  a  welcome.  Still  there  are  ex- 
ceptions even  to  this  rule,  and  nothing  can 
be  more  wearisome  to  the  uninitiated,  or 
more  unintelligible  to  the  unpractised  ear, 
than  the  jargon  poured  forth  by  an  amateur 
painter  without  regard  to  the  tastes  or  the 
understandings  of  those  around  him. 

Perhaps  his  fellow-traveller  is  seated  on 
some  gentle  eminence,  drinking  in  the  deep 
quiet  of  a  summer's  evening,  not  merely 
from  sight,  but  sound,  and  blending  all  with 
treasured  memories  of  the  past,  in  which  no 
stranger  could  intermeddle,  when  the  painter 
bursts  upon  him  with  his  technicalities,  and 
the  illusion  is  gone.  He  raves  about  the 
breadth  of  the  coloring.  His  companion  sees 
the  long  tall  shadows  of  the  trees  reflected 
on  the  sloping  green,  with  the  golden  sunset 
gleaming  in  between  the  stems,  and  through 
the  interstices  of  the  foliage,  and  he  knows 
not  where  the  poetry  or  even  the  truth  of 
this  wonderful  property  of  breadth  can  be. 
The  painter  descants  upon  the  bringing  out 
of  the  distant  cottage  from  the  wood.  His 
companion  is  of  opinion  it  would  be  better  to 
let  it  remain  where  it  is — half  hid  in  the  re- 
tirement of  the  forest,  and  sending  up,  as  it 
seems,  from  the  very  bosom  of  the  silent 
shade,  its  wreath  of  curling  smoke,  to  indi- 
cate the  social  scene  beneath  its  rustic  roof, 
prepared  for  by  the  lighting  of  the  wood- 
man's fire.  But  the  painter  is  not  satisfied. 
He  calls  upon  his  friend  to  observe  the 
grouping  of  the  whole.  He  must  have  the 
outline  broken.  The  thing  is  done.  His 
sketch  is  exhibited  in  triumph,  and  he  raves 
on  with  accelerated  delight ;  for  he  has  cleft 
the  hills  in  twain,  and  placed  a  group  of  rob- 
bers on  the  broken  ground.  Alas  !  how 
should  his  companion  believe  or  understand  ! 
His  thoughts  are  expatiating  upon  that  scene, 
because  its  sloping  hills,  and  cultivated  fields, 
and  gardens  and  orchards  and  village  church- 
yard, are  like  the  spot  where  he  was  born, 


and  where  his  father  died  ;  and  he  sees  no 
mountain  gorge,  nor  bandit  chief,  nor  hears 
the  rush  of  torrents  on  the  breeze  ;  but  his 
eye  dwells  again  upon  the  apple-tree  in  its 
spring  bloom,  and  the  lambs  upon  the  lea, 
and  his  ear  is  open  to  the  cooing  of  the  wood- 
pigeon  on  the  chestnut  boughs,  and  the  sound 
of  voices — than  all  other  sounds  more  sweet 
— the  voices  that  spoke  kindly  of  his  child- 
hood. 

It  might  be  supposed  that,  if  under  any  cir- 
cumstances the  society  of  a  painter  could  be 
always  welcome,  it  would  be  among  the  vari- 
ed scenes  of  a  picturesque  tour.  But  even 
here  the  mind  has  pictures  of  its  own,  and  he 
who  is  perpetually  telling  you  what  to  see, 
might  as  well  force  upon  you  at  every  view, 
the  use  of  his  camera  lucida,  and  neither  al- 
low you  to  gaze  upon  nature  as  you  wish  to 
behold  it,  nor  as  it  really  is. 

Women  are,  perhaps,  less  addicted  than 
men  to  annoy  others  with  their  pet  subjects ; 
because  they  have  less  opportunity  of  follow- 
ing out  any  particular  branch  of  art  or  study, 
to  the  exclusion  of  others  ;  and  politics,  that 
most  prevalent  and  unceasing  absorbent  of 
conversation,  is  seldom  a  favorite  theme  with 
them.  They  have,  however,  their  houses  and 
their  servants,  and,  what  is  infinitely  worse — 
they  have  themselves. 

Perhaps  accustomed  to  a  little  private  ad- 
miration in  a  remote  corner  of  the  world,  they 
obtain  a  false  estimate  of  their  own  impor- 
tance, and  act  as  if  they  thought  no  subject  so 
interesting  as  that  which  turns  upon  their  own 
experience,  their  own  peculiarities,  or  even 
their  own  faults.  It  does  not  always  follow 
that  such  women  admire  themselves  so  much 
as  the  prevalence  of  self  in  their  conversation 
would  at  first  lead  us  to  suppose,  for  in  expa- 
tiating upon  the  good  qualities  of  others,  they 
often  exclaim — and  why  should  we  doubt 
their  sincerity  ? — how  much  they  wish  they 
were  like  the  beings  they  extol  !  They  will 
even  speak  disparagingly  of  themselves,  and 
tell  of  their  own  faults  without  occasion  ;  but 
even  while  they  do  this  with  an  air  of  humil- 
ity, they  seldom  fail  to  leave  an  impression  on 
the  minds  of  their  hearers,  that  in  reality  they 


like  their  own  faults  better  than  the  virtues 

of  others. 

It  is  not  of  much  consequence  what  u 
nature  of  the  subject  proposed  to  the  attention 
of  this  class  of  talkers.  If  the  weather :  «  It 
does  not  agree  with  me,  /  like  the  wind  from 
the  west"  If  the  politics  of  the  country  in 
which  they  live  :  "  /  have  not  given  much  at- 
tention  to  politics,  nor  do  I  think  that  women 
should."  If  any  moral  quality  in  the  abstract 
is  discussed :  «  Oh,  that  is  just  my  fault !"  or, 
«*  If  I  possess  any  virtue,  I  do  think  it  is  that." 
If  an  anecdote  la  related :  "  That  is  like  [or 
not  like]  me.  I  should  [or  should  not]  have 
done  the  same."  If  the  beauty  of  any  distant 
place  is  described:  "/ never  was  there,  but 
my  uncle  once  was  within  ten  miles  of- it: 
and  had  it  not  been  for  the  miscarriage  of  a 
letter,  I  should  have  been  his  companion  on 
that  journey.  My  uncle  was  always  fond  of 
taking  me  with  him.  Dear  good  man,  I  was 
a  great  pet  of  his."  If  the  lapse  of  time  is 
the  subject  of  conversation  :  "The  character 
undergoes  many  changes  in  a  few  years.  I 
wonder  whether,  or  in  what  way,  mine  will 
be  altered  two  years  hence."  If  the  moon  : 
"  How  many  people  write  sonnets  to  the 
moon !  /  never  did." 

And  thus  sun,  moon,  and  stars — the  whole 
created  universe — are  but  links  in  that  con- 
tinuous chain  which  vibrates  with  perpetual 
music  to  the  egotist,  connecting  all  things  in 
heaven  and  earth,  however  discordant  or 
heterogeneous,  by  a  perfect  and  harmonious 
union  with  self. 

A  very  slight  degree  of  observation  would 
enable  such  individuals  to  perceive  that  as 
soon  as  self  is  put  in  the  place  of  any  of  the 
subjects  in  question,  conversation  necessarily 
flags,  as  this  topic,  to  say  the  least  of  it,  can- 
not be  familiar  to  both  parties.  On  one  side, 
therefore,  nothing  further  remains  to  be  said ; 
for,  however  lovely  the  egotist  may  be  in  her 
own  person,  no  man,  or  woman  either,  is  pre- 
pared to  have  her  substituted  for  the  world  in 
general,  though  it  seems  more  than  probable 
that  the  individual  herself  might  not  object  to 
such  a  transposition. 
Another  class  of  annoying  talkers,  whose 


claims  to  eminence  in  this  line  I  am  in  no  way 
disposed  to  contest,  consists  of  the  talkers  of 
mere  common-place— those  who  say  nothing 
jut  what  we  could  have  said  ourselves,  had 
we  deemed  it  worth  our  while,  and  who  never 
on  any  occasion,  or  by  any  chance,  give  ut- 
terance to  a  new  idea.  Such  people  will  talk. 
They  seem  to  consider  it  their  especial  duty  to 
talk,  and  no  symptoms  of  inattention  in  their 
hearers,  no  impatient  answer  nor  averted  ear, 
nor  even  the  interminable  monotony  of  their 
own  prattle,  has  the  power  to  hush  them  into 
silence.  If  they  fail  in  one  thing,  they  try  an- 
other ;  but,  unfortunately  for  them,  there  is  a 
transmuting  medium  in  their  own  discourse, 
that  would  turn  to  dust  the  golden  opinions 
of  the  wisest  of  men. 

We  naturally  ask  in  what  consists  that  ob- 
jectionable common-place  of  which  we  com- 
plain, since  the  tenor  of  their  conversation  is 
not  unlike  the  conversation  of  others.  It  is 
in  reality  too  like,  too  much  composed  of  the 
fillings-up  of  conversation  in  general.  It  has 
nothing  distinctive  in  it,  and,  like  certain  let- 
ters we  have  seen,  would  answer  the  pur- 
pose as  well  if  addressed  to  one  individual  as 
another. 

The  talker  of  common-place  is  always  in- 
terested in  the  weather,  which  forms  an  all- 
sufficient  resource  when  other  subjects  fail 
One  would  think,  from  the  frequency  with 
which  the  individual  remarks  upon  the  rising  of 
clouds,  and  the  falling  of  rain,  she  was  perpet- 
ually on  the  point  of  setting  out  on  a  journey 
But  she  treats  the  seasons  with  the  same  re- 
spect, and  loses  no  opportunity  of  telling  the 
farmer  who  is  silently  suffering  from  a  we 
harvest,  that  the  autumn  has  been  unusually 
unpropitious.  If  you  cough,  she  hopes  you 
have  not  taken  cold,  but  really  colds  are  ex- 
tremely prevalent.  If  you  bring  out  your 
work,  she  admires  both  your  industry  am 
your  taste,  and  assures  you  that  rich  colors 
are  well  thrown  off  by  a  dark  ground.  If  books 
are  the  subject  of  conversation,  she  inquires 
whether  you  have  read  one  that  has  just  ha< 
a  twelvemonth's  run  of  popularity.  She 
thinks  that  authors  sometimes  go  a  little  toe 
far,  but  concludes,  with  what  appears  in  he 


THE  WOMEN  OF  ENGLAND. 


41 


opinion  to  be  a  universal  case,  that  much  may 
be  said  on  both  sides.  From  books  she  pro- 
ceeds to  authors ;  expatiates  upon  the  ima- 
gination of  Shakspeare,  and  the  strength  of 
mind  possessed  by  Hannah  More ;  and  de- 
liberately inquires  whether  you  do  not  agree 
with  her  in  her  sentiments  respecting  both. 
Nay,  so  far  does  reality  exceed  imagination, 
that  I  once  heard  a  very  sweet  and  amiable 
•woman,  whose  desire  to  be  at  the  same  time 
both  edifying  and  agreeable,  somewhat  out- 
ran her  originality  of  thought,  exclaim,  in  one 
of  those  pauses  incident  to  conversation — 
"  What  an  excellent  book  the  Bible  is !" 
Now,  there  is  no  gainsaying  such  an  asser- 
tion, and  it  is  almost  equally  impossible  to  as- 
sent. Conversation,  therefore,  always  flags 
where  common-place  exists,  because  it  elicits 
nothing,  touches  no  answering  chord,  nor  con- 
veys any  other  idea  than  that  of  bare  sound 
to  the  ear  of  the  reluctant  listener. 

Another  and  most  prolific  source  of  annoy- 
ance is  found  among  that  class  of  persons 
who  choose  to  converse  on  subjects  interest- 
ing to  themselves,  without  regard  to  time,  or 
place,  or  general  appropriateness.  Whatever 
they  take  up,  either  as'  their  ruling  topic,  or 
as  one  of  momentary  interest,  is  forced  upon 
society,  whether  in  season  or  out  of  season  ; 
and  they  often  feel  surprised  and  mortified 
that  their  favorite  subjects,  in  themselves  not 
unfrequently  well  chosen,  are  received  by  oth- 
ers with  so  cold  a  welcome.  How  many  wor- 
thy individuals,  whose  minds  are  richly  stored, 
and  whose  laudable  desire  is  to  disseminate 
useful  knowledge,  entirely  defeat  their  own 
ends  by  this  want  of  adaptation  ;  and  many 
whose  conversation  might  be  both  amusing 
and  instructive,  from  this  cause  seldom  meet 
with  a  patient  hearer. 

Old  people  are  peculiarly  liable  to  this  er- 
ror ;  and  it  would  be  well  to  provide  against 
the  garrulity  and  wearisomeness  of  advanced 
age,  by  cultivating  such  powers  of  discrimi- 
nation as  would  enable  us  habitually  to  dis- 
cover what  is  acceptable,  or  otherwise,  in 
conversation. 

It  occasionally  happens  that  the  mistress  of 
a  house,  the  kind  hospitable  mistress,  who 


has  been  at  a  world  of  pains  to  make  every, 
body  comfortable,  is  the  very  last  person  at 
the  table,  beside  whom  any  of  her  guests 
would  desire  to  be  placed ;  because  they  know 
that  being  once  linked  in  with  her  intermina- 
ble chain  of  prattle,  they  will  have  no  chance 
of  escape  until  the  ladies  rise  to  withdraw  ; 
and  there  are  few  who  would  not  prefer 
quietly  partaking  of  her  soups  and  sauces,  to 
hearing  them  described.  Women  of  this  de- 
scription, having  tired  out  everybody  at  home, 
and  taught  every  ear  to  turn  away,  are  vora- 
cious of  attention  when  they  can  command 
it,  or  even  that  appearance  of  it  which  the 
visitor  politely  puts  on.  Charmed  with  the 
novelty  of  her  situation  in  having  caught  a 
hearer,  she  makes  the  most  of  him.  Warm- 
ing with  her  subject,  and  describing  still  more 
copiously,  she  looks  into  his  face  with  an  ex- 
pression bordering  on  ecstasy ;  and  were  it 
not  that  she  cpnsiderately  spares  him  the  task 
of  a  rejoinder,  his  situation  would  be  as  in- 
tolerable as  the  common  routine  of  table-talk 
could  make  it 

In  about  the  same  class  of  agreeables  with 
this  good  lady,  might  be  placed  the  profuse 
teller  of  tales,  whose  natural  flow  of  language 
and  fertility  of  ideas  leads  her  so  far  away 
from  the  original  story,  that  neither  the  nar- 
rator nor  the  listener  would  be  able  to  answer 
if  suddenly  inquired  of — what  the  story  was 
about.  This  is  a  very  common  fault  among 
female  talkers,  whose  versatility  of  mind  and 
sensibility  of  feeling,  render  them  peculiarly 
liable  to  be  diverted  from  any  definite  object 
It  is  only  wonderful  that  the  same  quickness 
of  apprehension  does  not  teach  them  the  im- 
possibility of  obtaining  hearers  on  such  terms. 

Nor  mast  we  forget,  among  the  abuses  of 
conversation,  the  random  talkers, — those  who 
talk  from  impulse  only,  and  rush  upon  you 
with  whatever  happens  to  be  uppermost  in 
their  own  minds,  or  most  pleasing  to  their 
fancy  at  the  time,  without  waiting  to  ascer- 
tain whether  the  individual  they  address  is 
sad  or  merry, — at  liberty  to  listen,  or  pre-oc- 
cupied  with  some  weightier  and  more  inter- 
esting subject 

Whatever  the  topic  of  conversation,  thus 


CONVERSATION  OF 


obtruded  upon  society,  may  be,  it  is  evident 
there  must  be  a  native  obtuseness  and  vul- 
garity in  the  mind  of  the  individual  who  thus 
offends,  or  she  would  wait  before  she  spoke, 
to  tune  her  voice  to  some  degree  of  harmony 
with  the  feelings  of  those  around  her. 

Thus  far  we  have  noticed  only  the  trifling 
abuses  of  conversation,  and  of  such  we  have, 
perhaps  already,  had  more  than  enough; 
though  the  catalogue  might  easily  be  contin- 
ued through  as  many  volumes  as  it  occupies 
pages  here.  There  are  other  aspects  more 
serious,  under  which  the  abuse  of  conversa- 
tion must  be  contemplated ;  and  the  first  of 
these  is — as  it  relates  to  carelessness  or  design 
in  exercising  its  power  to  give  pain. 

It  is  difficult  to  conceive  that  a  deliberate 
desire  to  give  pain  could  exist  in  any  but  the 
most  malignant  bosom ;  but  habitual  want  of 
regard  to  what  is  painful  to  others,  may  easi- 
ly be  the  cause  of  inflicting  upon  them  real 
misery. 

We  have  all  observed — perhaps  some  of 
us  felt,  the  sting  of  a  taunting  or  an  ill-timed 
jest ;  and  never  is  the  suffering  it  occasions, 
or  the  effect  it  produces,  so  much  to  be  re- 
gretted, as  when  it  wrings  sharp  tears  from 
the  gentle  eyes  of  childhood.  Ye  know  not 
what  ye  do,  might  well  be  said  to  those  who 
thus  burn  up  the  blossoms  of  youth,  and  send 
back  the  fresh,  warm  current  of  feeling  to  stag- 
nate at  the  heart 

It  would  be  impossible,  even  if  such  were 
our  object,  always  to  discover  exactly  when 
we  did  give  pain  ;  but  surely  it  would  be  a 
study  well  worthy  of  a  benevolent  and  en- 
lightened mind,  to  ascertain  the  fact  with  as 
much  precision  as  we  are  capable  of.  What, 
for  instance,  do  we  feel  on  being  called  upon  to 
sympathize  with  a  young  lady  who  ia  at  the 
same  moment  pointed  out  to  as  one  whose  fa- 
ther a  short  time  before  had  put  an  end  to  his 
existence,  when  the  recollection  simultaneous- 
ly flashes  upon  us,  that  during  the  whole  of  the 
past  evening,  we  engaged  the  attention  of  the 
very  same  young  lady  with  a  detailed  account 
of  tlie  melancholy  scenes  we  had  sometimes 
witnessed  in  an  insane  asylum  ?  Yet,  neither 
the  pain  inflicted  by  such  conversation  is 


greater,  nor  is  its  carelessness  more  culpable 
in  us,  than  is  that  of  a  large  portion  of  the  ill- 
judged,  random  speeches  we  give  utterance  to 
every  day. 

Nor  is  it  in  common  conversation  that  care- 
lessness of  giving  pain  is  felt  so  much,  as  in 
the  necessary  duties  of  advising  and  finding 
fault  I  am  inclined  to  think  no  very  agree- 
able way  of  telling  people  of  their  faults  has 
ever  yet  been  discovered  ;  but  certainly  there 
is  a  difference,  as  great  as  that  which  sepa- 
rates light  from  darkness,  between  reproof  ju- 
diciously and  injudiciously  administered.  By 
carelessness  in  not  regulating  our  tones  and 
looks  and  manner  when  reproving  others,  we 
may  convey  either  too  much  or  too  little 
meaning,  and  thus  defeat  our  own  purposes ; 
we  may  even  convey  an  impression  the  exact 
opposite  of  that  designed,  and  awaken  feel- 
ings of  bitterness,  revenge,  and  malignity  in 
the  mind  of  the  individual  we  are  solicitous 
to  serve. 

Let  no  one  therefore  presume  to  do  good, 
either  by  instruction  or  advice,  unless  they 
have  learned  something  of  the  human  heart. 
It  may  appear,  on  the  first  view  of  the  sub- 
ject, a  difficult  and  arduous  study,  but  it  is 
one  that  never  can  be  begun  too  early  or  pur- 
sued too  long.  It  is  one  also,  in  the  pursuit 
of  which  women  never  need  despair,  as  thev 
possess  the  universal  key  of  sympathy,  by 
which  all  hearts  may  be  unlocked, — some,  it 
is  true,  with  considerable  difficulty,  and  some 
but  partially  at  last ;  yet,  if  the  key  be  applied 
by  a  delicate  and  skilful  hand,  there  is  little 
doubt  but  some  measure  of  success  will  re- 
ward the  endeavor. 

We  have  said  before,  and  we  again  repeat, 
it  is  scarcely  possible  to  believe  that  beings 
constituted  as  women  are — kindly  affectioned, 
and  tenderly  susceptible  of  pain  themselves — 
should  be  capable  of  wantonly  and  designedly 
inflicting  pain  upon  others.  Nature  revolts 
from  the  thought  We  look  at  the  smile  of 
beauty,  and  exclaim,  "Impossible!"  We 
pursue  the  benevolent  visitant  of  the  sick  in 
her  errands  of  mercy,  and  say,  *«  It  cannot 
be."  Yet,  after  all,  we  fear  it  must  be  charged 
upon  the  female  sex,  that  they  do  assist  occa- 


THE  WOMEN  OF  ENGLAND. 


43 


sionally  in  the  circulation  of  petty  scandal,  and 
that  it  is  not  always  from  carelessness  that  they 
let  slip  the  envenomed  shaft,  or  speak  dag- 
gers where  they  dare  not  use  them.  Nor  are 
the  speakers  alone  to  blame.  The  hearers 
ought  at  least  to  participate,  for  if  the  habit 
of  depreciating  character  were  discountenan- 
ced in  society,  it  would  soon  cease  to  exist,  or 
exist  only  in  occasional  attempts,  to  be  defeat- 
ed as  soon  as  made. 

Few  women  have  the  hardihood  to  confess 
that  they  delight  in  this  kind  of  conversation. 
But  let  the  experiment  be  made  in  mixed  so- 
ciety, of  course  not  under  the  influence  of 
true  religious  feeling,  though  perhaps  the 
party  might  be  such  as  would  feel  a  little 
scandalized  at  being  told  they  were  not.  Let 
a  clever  and  sarcastic  woman  take  the  field, 
not,  professedly,  to  talk  against  her  neighbors 
on  her  own  authority,  but  to  throw  in  the 
hearsay  of  the  day,  by  way  of  spice  to  the 
general  conversation  ;  giving  to  a  public  man 
his  private  stigma — to  an  author  his  unsale- 
able book — to  the  rich  man  his  trading  ances- 
try— to  the  poor,  his  unquestionable  impru- 
dence— to  the  beau,  his  borrowed  plumes — 
and  to  the  belle,  her  artificial  bloom.  We 
grant  that  this  mass  of  poisoning  matter 
thrown  in  at  once,  would  be  likely  to  offend 
the  taste.  It  must,  therefore,  be  skilfully  pro- 
portioned, distributed  with  nice  distinction, 
and  dressed  up  with  care.  Will  there  not 
then  be  a  large  proportion  of  attentive  listen- 
ers gathered  round  the  speaker,  smiling  a 
ready  assent  to  what  they  had  themselves  not 
dared  to  utter,  and  nodding  as  if  in  silent  recog- 
nition of  some  fact  they  had  previously  been 
made  acquainted  with  in  a  more  private  way  ] 

Now  all  this  while  there  may  be  seated  in 
another  part  of  the  room,  a  person  whose 
sole  business  is  to  tell  the  good  she  knows, 
believes,  or  has  heard  of  others.  She  is  not 
a  mere  relater  of  facts,  but  equally  talented, 
shrewd,  and  discriminating  with  the  opposite 
party,  only  she  is  restricted  to  the  detail  of 
what  is  good.  I  simply  ask,  for  I  wish  not 
to  pursue  the  subject  further,  Which  of  these 
talkers  will  be  likely  to  obtain  the  largest 
group  of  listeners  7 


It  is  not,  after  all,  by  any  consistent  or  de- 
termined attack  npon  character,  that  so  much 
mischief  is  done,  as  by  interlarding  otherwise 
agreeable  conversation  with  the  sly  hope  of 
pretended  charity— that  certain  things  are 
not  as  they  have  been  reported ;  or  the  kind 
wish  that  apparent  merit  was  real,  or  might 
last 

English  society  is  so  happily  constituted, 
that  women  have  little  temptation  to  any 
open  vice.  They  must  lose  all  respect  for 
themselves,  before  they  would  venture  so  far 
to  forget  their  respectability.  But  they  have 
temptations  as  powerful  to  them,  as  open 
vice  to  others,  and  not  the  less  so  for  being 
insidious.  Who  would  believe  that  the  pas- 
sions of  envy,  hatred,  and  revenge  could  lurk 
within  the  gentle  bosom  over  which  those 
folds  of  dove-colored  drapery  are  falling? 
The  lady  has  been  prevailed  upon  to  sing  for 
the  amusement  of  the  company.  Blushing 
and  hesitating,  she  is  just  about  to  be  led  to 
the  place  of  exhibition,  when  another  move- 
ment, in  a  distant  part  of  the  room,  where 
her  own  advance  was  not  observed,  has 
placed  upon  the  seat  of  honor,  a  younger, 
and  perhaps  more  lovely  woman ;  and  she 
lays  open  the  very  piece  of  music  which  the 
lady  in  the  dove-like  color  had  believed  her- 
self the  only  person  present  who  could  sing. 
The  musician  charms  the  company.  The 
next  day,  our  dove  hears  of  nothing  but  this 
exquisite  performance ;  and  at  last  she  is  pro- 
voked to  say,  "  No  wonder  she  plays  so  well, 
for  I  understand  she  does  nothing  else.  Her 
mamma  was  ill  the  other  day  with  a  dreadful 
headache,  and  she  played  on,  the  whole  after- 
noon, because  she  was  going  to  a  party  in 
the  evening,  and  wished  to  keep  herself  in 
practice." 

Now,  there  is  little  in  this  single  speech. 
It  is  almost  too  trifling  for  remark ;  but  it 
may  serve  as  a  specimen  of  thousands,  which 
are  no  determined  falsehoods,  nay,  possibly, 
no  falsehoods  at  all,  and  yet  originate  in  feel- 
ings as  diametrically  opposed  to  Christian 
meekness,  love,  and  charity,  as  are  the  ma- 
lignant passions  of  envy,  hatred,  and  re- 
venge. 


11 


CONVERSATION  OF 


I  must  again  repeat,  that  I  know  the  evil 
exists  not  in  this  individual  act,  but  in  the 
state  of  the  heart  where  it  originates ;  yet  I 
write  thus  earnestly  about  seeming  trifles, 
because  I  believe  few  young  persons  are  suf- 
ficiently alive  to  their  importance:  because 
I  know  that  the  minor  morals  of  domestic 
life  exercise  a  vital  influence  over  the  well- 
being  of  society ;  and  because  the  peace  of 
whole  families  is  sometimes  destroyed  by  the 
outward  observance  of  religious  duty  not  be- 
ing supported  by  an  equally  strenuous  ob- 
servance of  these  delicate  but  essential  points. 

In  studying  the  art,  or  rather  the  duty  of 
being  agreeable— a  duty  which  all  kindly- 
disposed  persons  will  be  anxious  to  observe — 
it  is  of  importance  to  inquire,  from  whence 
originate  the  errors  here  specified,  with  the 
long  catalogue  that  might  follow  in  their 
train  1  So  far  as  they  are  confined  to  mis- 
apprehension of  what  is  really  agreeable,  they 
may  be  said  to  originate  in  the  innate  selfish- 
ness of  our  nature  gaining  the  mastery  over 
our  judgment ;  beyond  this,  they  originate  in 
the  evil  propensities  of  the  human  heart, 
which  when  the  influence  of  popular  feeling 
operates  against  their  exhibition  in  any  gross 
and  palpable  form,  infuse  themselves,  as  it 
were,  into  the  very  current  of  our  existence, 
and  poison  all  our  secret  springs  of  feeling. 

In  order  to  correct  the  former,  it  is  neces- 
sary that  the  judgment  should  be  awakened. 
But  as  habits  of  selfishness,  long  indulged, 
involve  the  understanding  in  a  cloud  too 
dense  to  be  altogether  dispelled,  it  is  the  more 
important  that  youth  should  be  so  trained  as 
to  acquire  habits  of  constant  and  unremitting 
mental  reference  to  the  feelings  and  charac- 
ters of  others ;  so  that  a  quickness  of  percep- 
tion, almost  like  intuitive  knowledge,  shall 
enable  them  to  carry  out  the  kindly  purposes 
they  are  taught  to  cherish,  into  the  delicate 
and  minute  affairs  of  life,  and  thus  render 
them  the  means  not  only  of  giving  pleasure, 
but  of  warding  off  pain. 

It  may  appear  a  harsh  conclusion  to  come 
to,  that  the  little  errors  of  conversation  to 
which  allusion  has  been  made,  and  which 
are  often  conspicuous  in  what  are  called  good 


sort  of  people,  really  owe  their  existence  to 
selfishness;  but  it  should  be  remembered, 
that  to  this  assertion  the  writer  is  far  from 
adding,  that  those  who  act  with  more  tact, 
and  avoid  such  errors,  are  necessarily  free 
from  the  same  fault  There  may  be  a  refined 
as  well  as  a  gross  selfishness,  and  both  may 
be  equal  in  their  intensity  and  power. 

But  let  us  go  back  to  the  cases  already 
specified.  If  the  artist  were  not  habitually 
more  intent  upon  his  own  gratification  than 
upon  that  of  his  companions,  he  would  keep 
his  hobby  in  the  background,  and  allow  him- 
self time  to  perceive  that  the  attention  of  his 
companion  was  pre-occupied  by  subjects 
more  agreeable  to  him.  The  same  may  cer- 
tainly be  said  of  the  more  common  fault  of 
making  se?f  the  ruling  topic  of  conversation ; 
and  this  applies  with  equal  truth  to  self-de- 
preciation as  to  self-praise. 

The  case  is  too  clear  and  simple  to  need 
further  argument  It  must  be  the  tidbit  of 
acting  from  that  first  and  most  powerful  im- 
pulse of  our  nature,  and  just  pouring  forth 
the  fulness  of  our  own  hearts,  discharging 
our  own  imagination  of  its  load,  and  empty- 
ing the  storehouse  of  our  own  memory,  with- 
out regard  to  fitness  or  preparation  in  the 
soil  upon  which  the  seed  may  fall,  or  the 
harvest  it  is  likely  to  produce,  that  renders 
conversation  sometimes  tasteless  and  vapid, 
and  sometimes  inexpressibly  annoying. 

The  weightier  responsibilities  which  attach 
to  the  talent  of  conversation,  do  not  appear 
to  fall  directly  within  the  compass  of  a  work 
expressly  devoted  to  the  morals  of  domestic 
life.  It  is,  however,  a  fact  of  great  import- 
ance to  establish,  that  a  woman's  private  con- 
versation— for  in  public  they  converse  too 
much  alike — is  the  surest  evidence  of  her 
mind  being  imbued  or  not  imbued  with  just 
and  religious  principles ;  that  where  it  is  uni- 
formly trifling,  there  can  be  no  predominating 
desire  to  promote  the  interests  of  religion  in 
the  world  ;  and  where,  on  the  other  hand,  it 
is  uniformly  solemn  and  sedate,  it  is  ill-calcu- 
lated to  recommend  the  course  it  would  ad- 
vocate with  effect ;  that  where  it  abounds  in 
sarcasm,  invective,  and  abuse,  even  of  what  is 


THE  WOMEN  OF  ENGLAND. 


45 


evil,  it  never  emanates  from  a  mind  in  per- 
fect unison  with  what  is  good ;  and  that 
where  it  is  always  smooth,  and  sweet,  and 
complacent,  it  must  be  deficient  in  one  of  the 
grand  uses  of  conversation — its  correction 
|  and  reproof:  finally,  that  where  it  is  carried 
on  in  public  or  in  private,  without  the  least 
desire  to  elicit  truth,  to  correct  mistakes  in 
relation  or  opinion,  to  establish  principle,  to 
disseminate  useful  knowledge,  to  warn  of 
danger,  or  to  perform  that  most  difficult  but 
most  important  of  all  duties — to  correct  the 
faults  of  friends — there  must  be  something 
wrong  at  the  heart's  core,  from  whence  this 
waste  of  words  is  flowing :  and  sad  will  be 
the  final  account,  if,  for  each  day  of  a  length- 
ened existence  upon  earth,  this  great  engine 
of  moral  good  and  evil  has  been  thus  per- 
forming its  fruitless  labor — for  time,  without 
an  object ;  for  eternity,  without  reward. 


CHAPTER   VI. 

CONVERSATION. 

IT  may  appear  somewhat  paradoxical  to 
commence  a  chapter  on  the  uses  of  conver- 
sation, by  pointing  out  the  uses  of  being  silent; 
yet  such  is  the  importance  to  a  woman,  of 
knowing  exactly  when  to  cease  from  conver- 
sation, and  when  to  withhold  it  altogether, 
that  the  silence  of  the  female  sex  seems  to 
have  become  proverbially  synonymous  with 
a  degree  of  merit  almost  too  great  to  be  be- 
lieved in  as  a  fact.  There  could  be  no  agree- 
able conversation  carried  on,  if  there  were  no 
good  listeners ;  and  from  her  position  in  socie- 
ty, it  is  the  peculiar  province  of  a  woman, 
rather  to  lead  others  out  into  animated  and 
intelligent  communication,  than  to  be  intent 
upon  making  communications  from  the  re- 
sources of  her  own  mind. 

Besides  this,  there  are  times  when  men, 
especially  if  they  are  of  moody  temperament, 
are  more  offended,  and  annoyed  by  being 
talked  to,  than  they  could  be  by  the  greatest 


personal  affront  from  the  same  quarter ;  and 
a  woman  of  taste  will  readily  detect  the  for- 
bidding frown,  the  close-shut  lips,  and  the 
averted  eye,  which  indicate  a  determination 
not  to  be  drawn  out.  She  will  then  find  op- 
portunity for  the  indulgence  of  those  secret 
trains  of  thought  and  feeling  which  naturally 
arise  in  every  human  mind  ;  and  while  she 
plies  her  busy  needle,  and  sists  quietly  mus- 
ing by  the  side  of  her  husband,  her  father,  or 
her  brother,  she  may  be  adding  fresh  mate- 
rials from  the  world  of  thought  to  that  fund 
of  conversational  amusement,  which  she  is 
ever  ready  to  bring  forward  for  their  use. 

By  the  art  of  conversation,  therefore,  as  I 
am  about  to  treat  the  subject  in  the  present 
chapter,  I  would  by  no  means  be  understood 
to  mean  the  mere  act  of  talking,  but  that  cul- 
tivation and  exercise  of  the  conversational 
powers  which  is  most  conducive  to  social 
enjoyment,  and  most  productive  of  beneficial 
influence  upon  our  fellow-creatures. 

I  have  already  asserted  of  conversation, 
that  it  is  a  fruitful  source  of  human  happi- 
ness and  misery,  a  powerful  engine  of  moral 
good  and  evil,  and  few,  I  should  suppose, 
would  deny  the  truth  of  this  assertion.  Yet, 
notwithstanding  the  prevalence  of  this  con- 
viction, the  art  of  conversation  is  seldom  or 
never  cultivated  as  a  branch  of  modern  edu- 
cation. It  is  true,  the  youthful  mind  is  stim- 
ulated into  early  and  immature  expansion  ; 
and  the  youthful  memory  is  stored  with  facts, 
but  the  young  student,  released  from  the 
trammels  of  school  discipline,  is  thrown  upon 
society  in  a  state  of  total  ignorance  of  the 
means  of  imparting  her  knowledge  so  as  to 
render  it  available  in  raising  the  general  tone 
of  conversation  ;  and  the  consequence  most- 
ly is,  she  is  so  engrossed  by  the  new  life  into 
which  she  is  suddenly  introduced,  and  so  oc- 
cupied in  learning  what  must  be  acquired 
before  she  can  make  any  respectable  figure 
in  what  is  called  society,  that  she  closes  the 
door  upon  the  storehouse  she  has  spent  so 
many  years  of  her  life  in  filling  ;  and  finding 
little  use  for  the  materials  accumulated  there, 
is  only  known  in  after  years  to  have  had  a 
good  education,  by  hearing  her  occasionally 


m 


CONVERSATION  OF 


exclaim—"  I  learned  all  about  that  at  school, 
but  have  entirely  forgotten  it  since." 

The  English  woman,  whose  peculiar  part 
it  is  to  blend  all  that  is  productive  of  benefit 
in  her  intellectual  powers,  with  all  that  is 
conducive  to  happiness  in  her  affections, 
would  do  well  to  give  her  attention  as  early 
as  possible  to  the  uses  of  conversation  ;  and 
if  a  system  could  be  formed  for  teaching 
some  of  the  simple  rules  of  conversation  as 
an  art,  it  would  be  found  more  advantageous 
to  women  in  their  social  capacity,  than  many 
of  the  branches  of  learning  which  they  now 
spend  years  in  acquiring. 

To  converse  by  rule  has  indeed  a  startling 
sound,  and  few,  we  are  apt  to  conclude,  on  a 
slight  consideration  of  the  subject,  would  re- 
commend themselves  by  such  a  process. 
The  same  conclusion,  however,  is  always 
rushed  upon  by  the  young  genius  who  first 
begins  to  try  her  skill  in  the  sister  arts  of 
painting  and  poetry,  yet,  in  proceeding,  she 
finds  at  every  step,  that  there  must  be  a  rule,  a 
plan,  a  system,  or  that  genius,  with  all  her  pro- 
fusion of  materials,  will  be  unable  to  form  them 
into  such  a  whole  as  will  afford  pleasure  even 
to  the  most  uninitiated. 

I  am  aware  I  incur  some  risk  of  being 
charged  both  with  ignorance  and  enthusiasm, 
when  I  express  my  belief  that  the  art  of  con- 
versation might  in  some  measure  be  reduced 
to  a  system  taught  in  our  schools,  and  render- 
ed an  important  part  of  female  education  ; 
but  I  am  not  aware  that  my  belief  can  be 
proved  to  be  ill-founded  until  the  experiment 
has  been  fairly  tried. 

Let  an  individual  who  has  never  heard  of 
botany  go  forth  into  one  of  our  English  mead- 
ows in  the  month  of  June,  and  gaze  upon 
the  luxuriance  of  flowers,  and  leaves,  and 
shooting  stems,  which  there  would  meet  his 
eye.  Tell  him  that  all  these  distinct  and  sep- 
arate plants  have  been  classed,  and  resolved 
into  their  appropriate  orders,  and  he  will  ex- 
claim, M  Impossible  !  it  cannot  be." 

I  must  allow  that  the  case  is  not,  strictly 
speaking,  a  similar  one.  There  are  difficul- 
ties of  no  trifling  magnitude  in  reducing  the 
faculties  of  the  human  mind  to  any  thing 


like  order,  and  in  laying  down  rules  for  the 
promotion  of  human  happiness,  except  on  the 
broad  scale  of  moral  philosophy.  But  let  the 
two  cases  be  fairly  tried,  and  I  am  still  un- 
convinced that  the  most  apparently  imprac- 
ticable would  not  be  attended  with  a  measure 
of  success. 

If  we  consider  the  number  of  books  that 
have  been  written  on  the  subject  of  botany, 
the  number  of  lectures  that  have  been  deliv- 
ered, the  number  of  years  it  has  been  taught, 
and  the  number  of  wise  men  who  have  made 
it  their  chief  study ;  and  if  in  comparison 
with  a  subject  upon  which  such  vast  machi- 
nery of  mind  has  been  brought  to  operate, 
we  do  but  mention  that  of  Conversation,  to 
which  no  one  entire  volume  has,  perhaps, 
ever  yet  been  devoted,  a  smile  of  derision 
will  most  probably  be  the  only  notice  our  ob- 
servation will  excite. 

I  would  not  be  understood  to  speak  lightly 
of  a  knowledge  of  botany,  or  to  depreciate 
the  value  of  any  other  science.  All  I  would 
maintain  is  this,  that  to  know  every  thing  that 
can  be  known  in  art  and  nature,  is  of  little 
value  to  a  woman,  if  she  has  not  at  the  same 
time  learned  to  communicate  her  knowledge 
in  such  a  manner  as  to  render  it  agreeable 
and  serviceable  to  others. 

A  woman  does  not  converse  more  agreea- 
bly, because  she  is  able  to  define  botanically 
the  difference  between  a  rose  and  a  butter- 
cup, though  it  may  be  desirable  to  be  able  to 
do  so  when  asked ;  but  because  she  has  a 
quick  insight  into  character,  has  tact  to  select 
the  subjects  of  conversation  best  suited  to  her 
auditors,  and  to  pursue  them  just  so  long  as 
they  excite  interest,  and  engage  attention. 

With  regard  to  the  art  of  conversation, 
therefore,  adaptation  may  be  laid  down  as 
the  primary  rule — vivacity,  or  rather  fresh- 
ness, the  second — and  the  establishment  of  a 
fact,  or  the  deduction  of  a  moral,  the  third. 

Why  should  not  the  leisure  hours  at  school 
be  filled  up  by  the  practice  of  these  rules, 
not  only  as  a  recreation,  but  as  a  pleasing  art, 
in  which  it  would  be  much  to  the  advantage 
of  every  woman  to  excel  ?  Why  should  not 
the  mistress  of  the  school  devote  her  time 


THE  WOMEN  OF  ENGLAND. 


47 


occasionally  to  the  exercise  of  this  art  in  the 
midst  of  her  pupils,  who  might  by  her  win- 
ning manners  be  invited  in  their  turn  to  prac- 
tise upon  her  ?  And  why  should  not  some 
plan  be  invented  for  encouraging  the  same 
exercise  among  the  junior  members  of  the 
establishment  1  Each  girl,  for  instance,  might 
be  appointed  for  a  day  or  a  week,  the  con- 
verser  with,  or  entertainer  of,  one  of  her  fel- 
low-students, taking  all  in  rotation  ;  so  that 
in  their  hours  of  leisure  it  should  be  her  busi- 
ness to  devote  herself  to  her  companion,  as 
it  is  that  of  a  host  to  a  guest  A  report 
should  then  be  given  in  at  the  expiration  of 
the  day  or  week,  by  the  girl  whose  part  it 
was  to  be  conversed  with,  and  by  encourag- 
ing her  to  state  whether  she  has  been  annoy- 
ed or  interested,  weari?d  or  amused,  in  the 
presence  of.  her  companion,  who  should  in 
her  turn  have  the  liberty  of  commending  or 
complaining  of  her  as  an  attentive  or  inat- 
tentive listener,  a  good  or  bad  responder, 
such  habits  of  candor  and  sincerity  would 
be  cultivated,  as  are  of  essential  service  in 
the  formation  of  the  moral  character. 

The  practice  of  this  art,  as  here  recom- 
mended, would  not  necessarily  be  restricted 
in  its  operation  to  any  particular  number. 
Those  who  attained  the  greatest  proficiency 
might  extend  their  conversational  powers  to 
other  members  of  the  establishment ;  and 
thus  might  be  constituted  little  amicable  socie- 
ties, in  which  all  the  faculties  most  likely  to 
recommend  the  young  students  in  their  future 
association  with  the  world,  would  be  called 
into  exercise,  and  rendered  conducive  to  the 
general  good. 

To  the  class  of  women  chiefly  referred  to 
in  this  work,  it  is  perhaps  most  important 
that  they  should  be  able  to  converse  with  in- 
terest and  effect.  A  large  portion  of  their 
time  is  spent  in  the  useful  labor  of  the  needle, 
an  occupation  which  of  all  others  requires 
something  to  vary  its  monotony,  and  render 
less  irksome  its  seemingly  interminable  dura- 
tion ;  they  are  frequently  employed  in  nursing 
the  sick,  when  appropriate  and  well-timed 
conversation  may  occasionally  beguile  the 
sufferer  into  forgetfulness  of  pain ;  and  they 


are  also  much  at  home— at  their  humble, 
quiet  homes — where  excitement  from  extra- 
neous causes  seldom  comes,  and  where,  if 
they  are  unacquainted  with  the  art,  and  un- 
initiated in  the  practice  of  conversation,  their 
days  are  indeed  heavy,  and  their  evenings 
worse  than  dull. 

The  women  of  England  are  not  only  pe- 
culiarly in  need  of  this  delightful  relaxation 
to  blend  with  their  daily  cares ;  but,  until  the 
late  rapid  increase  of  superficial  refinement, 
they  were  adapted,  by  their  habits  and  mode 
of  life,  for  cultivating  their  conversational 
powers  in  a  very  high  degree.  Their  time 
was  not  occupied  by  the  artificial  embellish- 
ments of  polished  life,  they  were  thrown  di- 
rectly upon  their  own  resources  for  substan- 
tial comfort,  and  thus  they  acquired  a  founda- 
tion of  character  which  rendered  their  con- 
versation sensible,  original,  and  full  of  point 
It  is  greatly  to  be  apprehended  that  the  in- 
creased facilities  for  imparting  instruction  in 
the  present  day,  have  not  produced  a  pro- 
portionate increase  in  the  facilities  of  con- 
versing ;  and  it  is  well  worthy  the  attention 
of  those  who  give  their  time  and  thoughts  to 
the  invention  of  improved  means  of  dissem- 
inating knowledge,  to  inquire  what  is  the  best 
method  of  doing  this  by  conversation  as  well 
as  by  books. 

It  is  not,  however,  strictly  speaking,  in 
imparting  a  knowledge  of  general  facts,  that 
the  highest  use  of  conversation  consists. 
General  facts  may  be  recorded  in  books,  and 
books  may  be  circulated  to  the  remotest  range 
of  civilized  society ;  but  there  are  delicate 
touches  of  feeling  too  evanescent  to  bear  the 
impress  of  any  tangible  character  ;  there  are 
mental  and  spiritual  appliances,  that  must 
be  immediate  to  be  available ;  and  who  has 
not  known  the  time  when  they  would  have 
given  the  wealth  of  worlds  for  the  power  to 
unburden  their  full  hearts  before  the  moment 
of  acceptance  should  be  gone,  or  the  atten- 
tive ear  be  closed  for  ever  1 

The  difficulty  is  seldom  so  great  in  know- 
ing what  ought  to  be  said,  as  in  knowing 
how  to  speak,  what  mode  of  expression 
would  be  most  acceptable,  or  what  turn  the 


CONVERSATION  OF 


conversation  ought  to  take,  so  as  best  to  in- 
troduce the  point  in  question. 

Nor  is  the  management  of  the  voice  an 
unimportant  branch  of  this  art  There  are 
never-to-be-forgotten  tones,  with  which  some 
cruel  word  has  been  accompanied,  that  have 
impressed  themselves  upon  every  heart; 
and  there  are  also  tones  of  kindness  equally 
indelible,  which  had,  perhaps,  more  influence 
at  the  time  they  were  heard,  than  the  lan- 
guage th«y  were  employed  to  convey.  "  It 
was  not  what  she  said,  but  the  tone  of  voice 
in  which  she  spoke,"  is  the  complaint  of 
many  a  wounded  spirit ;  and  welcome  and 
soothing  to  the  listening  ear  is  every  tone 
that  tells  of  hope  and  gladness. 

There  is  scarcely  any  source  of  enjoyment 
more  immediately  connected  at  once  with 
the  heart  and  with  the  mind,  than  that  of 
listening  to  a  sensible  and  amiable  woman 
when  she  converses  in  a  melodious  and  well- 
regulated  voice,  when  her  language  and  pro- 
nunciation are  easy  and  correct,  and  when 
she  knows  how  to  adapt  her  conversation  to 
the  characters  and  habits  of  those  around 
her. 

Women,  considered  in  their  distinct  and 
abstract  nature,  as  isolated  beings,  must  lose 
more  than  half  their  worth.  They  are,  in 
fact,  from  their  own  constitution,  and  from 
the  station  they  occupy  in  the  world,  strictly 
speaking,  relative  creatures.  If,  therefore, 
they  are  endowed  only  with  such  faculties, 
as  render  them  striking  and  distinguished  in 
themselves,  without  the  faculty  of  instru- 
mentality, they  are  only  as  dead  letters  in 
the  volume  of  human  life,  filling  what  would 
otherwise  be  a  blank  space,  but  doing  nothing 
more. 

All  the  knowledge  in  the  world,  therefore, 
without  an  easy  and  felicitous  method  of  con- 
veying it  to  others,  would  be  but  a  profitless 
possession  to  a  woman ;  while  a  very  infe- 
rior portion  of  knowledge,  with  this  method, 
might  render  her  an  interesting  and  delight- 
ful companion. 

None  need  despair,  then,  if  shut  out  by 
homely  avocations,  by  straitened  means,  or 
by  other  unavoidable  causes,  from  learning 


all  the  lessons  taught  at  school ;  for  there 
are  lessons  to  be  learned  at  home,  around 
the  domestic  hearth,  and  even  in  the  ob- 
scurity of  rural  life,  perhaps  of  more  im- 
portance, in  the  summing-up  of  human  hap- 
piness. 

One  of  the  popular  uses  of  conversation 
is^to  pass  away  time  without  being  conscious 
of  its  duration ;  and,  unworthy  as  this  object 
unquestionably  is,  the  fact  that  conversation 
is  employed  more  than  any  other  means  for 
such  a  purpose,  is  a  convincing  proof  of  its 
importance  and  its  power. 

It  is  so  natural  to  converse,  that  one  of  the 
severest  punishments  inflicted  upon  degraded 
human  nature,  is  that  of  being  denied  the 
liberty  of  speech.  How  desirable  is  it,  then, 
that  what  is  done  every  hour  in  all  classes  of 
society,  and  under  almost  every  variety  of 
circumstance,  should  be  done  for  some  good 
purpose,  and  done  in  the  best  possible  man- 
ner ! 

To  converse  well  in  company,  is  a  point  of 
ambition  with  many  women,  and  few  are  in- 
sensible to  the  homage  paid  bjr  the  most  sin- 
cere of  all  flatterers — a  group  of  attentive 
listeners.  So  far  as  this  talent  enables  a  wo- 
man of  elevated  mind  to  give  a  higher  tone 
to  conversation  in  general,  it  is  indeed  a  val- 
uable gift ;  but  that  of  being  able  to  converse 
in  an  agreeable  and  appropriate  manner  in  a 
sick-room,  with  an  aged  parent  or  distressed 
relative,  or  with  a  friend  in  delicate  and  try- 
ing circumstances,  is  a  gift  of  far  higher  and 
more  ennobling  character. 

I  have  already  remarked,  that  attendance 
upon  the  sick  is  one  of  the  most  frequent  and 
familiar,  at  the  same  time  that  it  is  one  of  the 
most  sacred,  of  the  duties  devolving  upon 
the  class  of  women  here  described.  It  is 
much  to  be  able,  gently  and  skilfully,  to 
smooth  the  pillow  for  the  aching  head,  to  ad- 
minister the  cordial  draught,  to  guide  the  fee- 
ble steps,  and  to  watch  through  the  sleepless 
and  protracted  hours  of  night  But  these  are 
services  rendered  only  to  the  suffering  body. 
The  mind — the  unextinguishable  mind,  may 
all  the  while  be  sorely  in  need  of  the  oil  with 
which  its  waning  lamp  should  still  be  trim- 


THE  WOMEN  OF  ENGLAND. 


49 


med.  And  how  shall  this  be  administered  1 
The  practised  nurses  hired  for  the  occasion 
make  rude  and  ill-advised  attempts  to  raise 
the  drooping  spirits  of  the  patient  by  their 
vulgar  pleasantry  ;  books  are  too  wearisome, 
and  tell  only  of  far-off  and  by-gone  things, 
when  the  whole  interest  of  the  sufferer  is 
concentrated  into  the  present  moment,  and 
fixed  upon  himself. 

It  happens  more  frequently  and  more  hap- 
pily among  the  middle  classes  in  England, 
that  nurses  and  domestics  cannot  well  be 
hired,  and  that  the  chief  attention  required 
by  the  patient  devolves  upon  the  females  of 
the  family.  How  differently  in  this  case  is 
the  sufferer  dealt  with  !  There  is  no  appear- 
ance of  coming  in  expressly  to  converse  with 
him ;  but  while  a  gentle  and  kind-hearted 
woman  steals  with  noiseless  tread  about  the 
room,  arranging  every  article  of  comfort,  and 
giving  to  the  whole  apartment  an  air  of  re- 
freshment or  repose,  she  is  watching  every 
indication  of  an  opening  for  conversation, 
that  may  beguile  the  lingering  hours  of  their 
tediousness,  and  lead  the  sufferer  to  forget 
his  pain.  There  are  moments,  even  in  sea- 
sons of  sickness,  when  a  little  well-timed 
pleasantry  is  far  from  being  unacceptable. 
She  watches  for  these,  and  turns  them  to  ac- 
count, by  going  just  so  far  in  her  playfulness, 
as  the  exhausted  frame  can  bear  without  in- 
jury. When  sympathy  is  called  for,  as  it  is 
on  such  occasions  almost  unceasingly,  she 
yields  it  freely  and  fully,  though  not  to  any 
prolonged  extent,  as  regards  the  case  imme- 
diately under  her  care ;  but  continuing  the 
same  tone  and  manner,  and  with  evidently 
the  same  feeling,  she  speaks  of  other  cases  of 
suffering,  of  some  friend  or  neighbor;  and 
the  more  recent  and  immediate  the  instances, 
the  more  likely  they  will  be  to  divert  the 
mind  of  the  patient  from  himself.  These,  of 
course,  are  not  brought  forward  with  any 
thing  like  a  taunting  insinuation  that  the  pa« 
tient  is  not  worse  than  others,  but  simply  as 
if  her  own  mind  was  full  of  the  impression 
they  are  calulated  to  excite  ;  and  by  these 
means,  suiting  her  voice  and  her  counte- 
nance to  the  facts  she  is  relating,  she  invests 


them  with  an  interest  which  even  to  the  sel- 
fish invalid  is  irresistible. 

Varying  with  every  change  in  the  temper 
and  mood  of  the  patient,  her  conversation 
assumes  every  variety  that  is  calculated  to 
please,  always  subdued  and  kept  under  by 
such  delicate  touches  of  feeling,  such  intense 
watchfulness,  and  such  lively  sensibility,  that 
the  faintest  shadow  cannot  pass  across  the 
aching  brow,  nor  the  slightest  indication  of  a 
smile  across  the  lips,  but  it  serves  as  an  in- 
dex for  her  either  to  change  the  subject  of 
her  discourse,  to  be  silent  or  to  proceed. 
There  is  along  with  all  this  a  kindness  in  her 
voice  which  no  pen  was  ever  so  eloquent  as 
to  describe  ;  and  there  are  moments  of  ap- 
pealing weakness  on  the  part  of  the  invalid, 
when  she  pours  forth  the  full  tide  of  her  af- 
fection in  language  that  prosperity  and  health 
would  never  have  taught  her  how  to  use. 

Beyond  these  seasons  of  intercourse,  how- 
ever, and  of  far  deeper  value,  are  those  in 
which  the  burdened  soul  of  him  who  feels 
himself  to  be  fast  hastening  to  the  confines 
of  eternity,  will  sometimes  seek  a  human  ear 
for  the  utterance  of  its  anxieties  and  fears, 
and  appeal  to  a  human  heart  for  counsel  in 
its  hours  of  need.  It  may  be  that  the  indi- 
vidual has  never  been  accustomed  to  con- 
verse on  these  subjects — knows  not  how  to 
begin — and  is  ashamed  to  condemn,  as  he 
feels  that  he  must  do,  the  whole  of  his  past 
life.  Who  then,  but  the  friend  who  has  been 
near  him  in  all  his  recent  humiliations  and 
trials,  who  has  shared  them  both  to  her  very 
utmost,  and  thus  obtained  his  confidence, — 
who  but  his  patient  and  untiring  nurse  can 
mark  and  understand  the  struggle  of  his 
feelings,  and  lead  them  forth  by  partial  an- 
ticipations, so  gently  that  he  is  neither  pained 
nor  humbled  by  the  whole  confession. 

Perchance  it  is  at  the  hour  of  midnight, 
when  fever  gives  him  strength,  and  darkness 
hides  his  countenance,  and  he  hears  the 
sweet  tones  of  that  encouraging  voice  now 
modulated  to  the  expression  of  a  sympathy 
the  most  intense,  and  a  love  that  many  wa- 
ters could  not  quench.  There  Is  no  surprise 
in  her  rejoinder,  when  at  last  his  lips  have 


50 


CONVERSATION  OF 


spoken  what  he  could  not  utter  by  the  light 
of  day,  but  a  few  simple  words,  more  like 
those  of  recognition  of  what  she  had  known 
before,  and  of  what  it  is  the  lot  of  many  to 
experience  ;  and  then,  if  ever,  is  the  golden 
moment  when  the  power  to  speak  without 
wounding,  and  yet  to  speak  home,  is  indeed 
an  inestimable  gift. 

It  is  true  that  suitable  and  salutary  words 
might  be  written  out  for  some  such  occa- 
sion ;  but  so  differently  constituted  are  hu- 
man minds,  that  the  same  words  would 
scarcely  prove  suitable  and  salutary  to  any 
two  individuals,  out  of  the  countless  myriads 
who  throng  the  peopled  earth. 

Nor  is  the  chamber  of  sickness  the  only 
situation  in  which  the  power  of  conversing 
easily  and  appropriately  is  of  inestimable 
value.  There  are  other  cases  of  trial,  of 
suffering,  and  of  anxious  solicitude,  in  which 
the  mind  would  prey  upon  itself,  even  to  the 
injury  of  the  bodily  frame,  if  not  diverted 
from  its  object,  and  beguiled  by  pleasant  con- 
versation. 

In  seasons  of  protracted  endurance,  when 
some  anticipated  crisis,  of  immeasurable  good 
or  evil,  comes  not  at  the  expected  time,  and 
every  fresh  disappointment  only  adds  to  the 
feverish  restlessness  which  no  human  consti- 
tution is  strong  enough  to  sustain  unharmed ; 
what  amusement  could  be  devised  for  such  a 
time,  at  all  comparable  to  interesting  and  ju- 
dicious conversation,  gently  touching  upon 
the  exciting  theme,  and  then  leading  off  by 
some  of  those  innumerable  channels  which 
woman's  ingenuity  is  so  quick  to  discover, 
and  so  apt  to  make  use  of  for  purposes  of 
generosity  and  kindness  1 

There  are  fireside  scenes,  too,  of  frequent 
and  familiar  occurrence,  in  which  this  femi- 
nine faculty  may  be  rendered  more  service- 
able than  all  other  accomplishments — scenes 
that  derive  no  sadness  from  acute  or  lively 
suffering,  but  are  yet  characterized  by  an  in- 
expressible kind  of  melancholy,  arising  from 
the  moodiness  of  man,  or  the  perverseness 
of  woman,  or,  perhaps,  from  a  combination 
of  domestic  disagreeables  attaching  to  every 
member  of  the  family,  and  forming  over  their 


better  feelings  a  sort  of  incrustation,  that  must 
be  dissolved  or  broken  through  before  any 
thing  like  cheerfulness  can  shine  forth. 

There  is,  perhaps,  more  real  sadness  aris- 
ing from  causes  like  this,  than  from  the  more 
definite  misfortunes  with  which  we  are  visit- 
ed ;  and  not  sadness  only,  but  a  kind  of  re- 
sentment bordering  on  secret  malignity,  as  if 
each  member  of  the  family  had  poisoned  the 
happiness  of  the  others ;  and  looks  are  di- 
rected askance,  books  are  opened,  and  their 
leaves  are  methodically  folded  over ;  and  yet 
the  long  dull  evening  will  not  wear  away. 

How  like  a  ministering  angel  then  is  the 
woman,  who,  looking  off  from  her  work,  di- 
rects her  conversation  to  that  member  of  the 
family  who  appears  most  accessible,  and 
having  gained  his  attention,  gives  the  sub- 
ject such  a  turn  as  to  draw  the  attention  of 
another,  and  perhaps  a  third,  until  all  at  last, 
without  being  aware  of  it,  have  joined  in  con- 
versing on  the  same  topic,  and  the  close  of 
the  evening  finds  them  mutually  agreeable  to 
each  other.  On  such  occasions,  it  is  by  no 
means  an  insignificant  attainment  to  be  able 
to  awaken  a  laugh ;  for  if  two  or  three  can 
be  brought  to  laugh  together,  the  incrustation 
is  effectually  broken,  and  they  will  be  good 
friends  without  further  effort 

I  know  it  would  be  fruitless  to  lay  down 
any  minute  and  specific  rules  for  conversa- 
tion, because  none  could  be  acted  upon  safely 
without  strict  reference  to  the  object  upon 
which  they  might  be  brought  to  bear.  Yet 
it  may  be  said  to  be  a  rule  almost  without 
exception,  that  all  persons  are  pleased  to  be 
talked  about  themselves,  their  own  affairs, 
and  their  own  connections,  provided  only  it 
is  done  with  judgment,  delicacy  and  tact. 
When  all  other  topics  have  been  tried  with- 
out effect,  this  will  seldom  be  found  to  fail. 
Not,  certainly,  pursued  upon  what  is  de- 
scribed as  the  American  plan,  of  decided  in- 
quisitiveness,  but  by  remote  allusions,  and 
frequent  recurrence  to  what  has  already  been 
drawn  forth,  making  it  the  foundation  for 
greater  confidence,  and  more  definite  com- 
munication. 

That  species  of  universal  politeness,  which 


THE  WOMEN  OF  ENGLAND. 


51 


prompts  inquiry  after  the  relations  of  the 
stranger  or  the  guest,  appears  to  be  founded 
upon  this  principle,  occurring,  as  it  so  fre- 
quently does,  where  there  can  be  no  possible 
interest  on  the  part  of  the  inquirer. 

It  is  not,  however,  for  the  purpose  of  pre- 
tending to  that  which  does  not  really  exist, 
that  conversation  can  be  recommended  as  an 
art,  but  simply  for  facilitating  the  expression 
of  feelings  which  could  not  be  so  well  ex- 
plained by  a  more  direct  assurance  of  their 
nature  and  existence. 

When  a  stranger  from  a  distance — perhaps 
an  orphan,  or  one  who  is  compelled  by  ad- 
verse circumstances  to  seek  the  means  of 
pecuniary  support — comes  to  take  up  her 
abode  in  a  family,  no  member  of  which  she 
has  ever  seen  before,  by  what  means  can  the 
mother  or  the  mistress  of  it  make  her  feel 
that  she  is  at  home]  She  may  tell  her  in 
plain  words  that  she  is  disposed  to  make  her 
comfortable,  but  it  will  touch  with  infinitely 
more  force  the  heart  of  the  stranger,  if,  with 
a  countenance  of  kindly  interest,  she  makes 
frequent  and  delicate  mention  of  her  friends, 
of  her  brothers  or  sisters,  or  other  near  rela- 
tions, or  even  of  the  part  of  the  world  in 
which  she  has  been  accustomed  to  reside. 
This  kind  of  mention,  frequently  bestowed 
with  gentleness,  and  evident  regard  to  the 
facts  it  elicits  or  the  confidence  it  draws  forth, 
will  be  much  more  effectual  in  gaining  the 
desired  end,  than  the  warmest  expressions  of 
affectionate  solicitude  for  the  stranger  herself. 

I  know  that  conversation,  simply  studied 
as  an  art,  without  right  motives  for  its  exer- 
cise, will  be  found  of  little  benefit,  either  to 
society,  or  to  the  individuals  who  practise  it. 
All  I  would  maintain  is,  that  it  may  be  made 
the  medium  of  conferring  happiness — the  in- 
strument of  doing  good — and  that  to  a  great- 
er extent  than  any  other  accomplishment  in 
which  woman  can  excel.  For  want  of  facility 
in  speaking  appropriately,  how  much  good 
feeling  is  lost  to  the  world,  buried  in  the  bo- 
som where  it  'originates,  and  where  it  be- 
comes a  burden  and  a  load,  from  the  very 
consciousness  of  inability  to  make  it  under- 
stood and  felt ! 


How  often  do  we  hear  the  bitterest  lamen- 
tations to  this  effect—"  If  I  could  but  have 
told  her  what  I  felt— if  I  could  but  have  ad- 
dressed her  appropriately  at  the  time — if  I 
had  but  known  how  to  make  the  conversa- 
tion lead  to  the  point ;  but  now  the  time  has 
passed,  and  I  may  never  have  so  suitable  an 
opportunity  again." 

Besides  the  cases  already  described,  there 
are  some  darker  passages  in  human  life, 
when  women  are  thrown  upon  the  actual 
charm  of  their  conversation,  for  rendering 
more  alluring  the  home  that  is  not  valued  as 
it  should  be.  Perhaps  a  husband  has  learned 
before  his  marriage  the  fatal  habit  of  seeking 
recreation  in  scenes  of  excitement  and  con- 
vivial mirth.  It  is  but  natural  that  such 
habits  should  with  difficulty  be  broken  off, 
and  that  he  should  look  with  something  like 
weariness  upon  the  quiet  and  monotony  of 
his  own  fireside.  Music  cannot  always 
please,  and  books  to  such  a  man  are  a  taste- 
less substitute  for  the  evening  party.  He 
may  possibly  admire  his  wife,  consider  her 
extremely  good-looking,  and,  for  a  woman, 
think  her  very  pleasant ;  but  the  sobriety  of 
matrimony  palls  upon  his  vitiated  taste,  and 
he  longs  to  feel  himself  a  free  man  again 
among  his  old  associates. 

Nothing  would  disgust  this  man  so  much, 
or  drive  him  away  so  effectually,  as  any  as- 
sumption on  the  part  of  his  wife,  of  a  right 
to  detain  him.  The  next  most  injudicious 
thing  she  could  do,  would  be  to  exhibit  symp- 
toms of  grief— of  real  sorrow  and  distress  at 
his  leaving  her ;  for  whatever  may  be  said  in 
novels  on  the  subject  of  beauty  in  tears, 
seems  to  be  rendered  null  and  void  by  the 
circumstance  of  marriage  having  taken  place 
between  the  parties. 

The  rational  woman,  whose  conversation 
on  this  occasion  is  to  serve  her  purpose  more 
effectually  than  tears,  knows  better  than  to 
speak  of  what  her  husband  would  probably 
consider  a  most  unreasonable  subject  of  com- 
plaint. She  tries  to  recollect  some  incident, 
some  trait  of  character,  or  some  anecdote  of 
what  has  lately  occurred  within  her  know- 
ledge, and  relates  it  in  her  most  lively  and 


CONVERSATION  OF 


piquant  manner.    If  conscious  of  beauty,  she 
tries  a  little  raillery,  and  plays  gently  upon 
some  of  her  husband's  not  unpleasing  pecu- 
liarities, looking  all  the  while  as  disengaged 
and  unsuspecting  as  she  can.    If  his  atten- 
tion becomes  fixed,  she  gives  her  conversa- 
tion a  more  serious  turn,  and  plunges  at  once 
into  some  theme  of  deep  and  absorbing  in- 
terest   If  her  companion  grows  restless,  she 
changes  the   subject,  and   again  recollects 
something  laughable  to  relate  to  him.    Yet 
all  the  while  her  own  poor  heart  is  aching 
with  the  feverish  anxiety  that  vacillates  be- 
tween the  extremes  of  hope  and  fear.    She 
gains  courage,  however,  as  time  steals  on,  for 
her  husband  is  by  her  side ;  and  with  her 
increasing  courage  her  spirits  become  exhila- 
rated, and  she  is  indeed  the  happy  woman 
she  has  hitherto  but  appeared — for  at  last 
her  husband  looks  at  his  watch,  is  astonished 
to  find  it  is  too  late  to  join  his  friends,  and, 
while   the   evening  closes   in,  he  wonders 
whether  any  other  man  has  a  wife  so  de- 
lightful and  entertaining  as  his  own. 

Again,  there  is  a  class  of  beings,  unfortu- 
nately for  themselves,  not  always  welcomed 
into  good  society,  and  yet  severely  blamed 
for  seeking  bad— a  nondescript  species  of 
humanity,  not  properly  called  boys  nor  worth- 
ily called  men,  who  are,  above  all  other  crea- 
tures, the  most  difficult  to  converse  with. 
They  seem,  in  fact,  to  be  discarded  from  so- 
ciety ;   for  old  women  are  afraid  of  them, 
while  young  ones  pronounce  them  bores,— 
and  old  men  seem  uniformly  inclined  to  put 
them  down,  while  young  ones  do  little  to 
raise  them  up.    Yet  in  these  very  individu- 
als during  this  season  of  incipient  manhood, 
the  character  of  the  future  statesman  or  citi- 
zen, father  or  friend,  is  undergoing  the  pro- 
se of  formation ;  and  all  the  while,  the  step 
that  owes  half  its  fleetness  to  the  hope  of 
nng  care  and  sorrow  in  the  distance, 
Is  on  with  triumphant  recklessness,  be- 
cause there  is  no  friendly  voice  to  arrest  its 
progress  or  direct  its  course. 

Who  takes  the  trouble  to  converse  with  a 
youth  of  this  description,  for  we  confess  it  is 
trouble,  except  where  personal  affection 


prompts  the  act  ?    Is  there  not  one  who  will 
kindly  endeavor  to  make  the  young  heart 
confess  itself, — for  a  heart  there  must  be  un- 
der all   this  rude   and   turbulent  exterior? 
Yes,  there  is  one.    The  reckless  boy,  after 
receiving  a  thousand  insults — after  having 
been  elbowed  off  by  one,  pushed  away  by  a 
second,  and  made  game  of  by  a  third,  comes 
home  to  his  mother,  and  finds  that  his  own 
fireside  is  indeed  the  happiest  place  on  earth 
to  him.     His  mother  does  what  no  one  else 
will  condescend  to  do :  she  converses  with 
him— -she  treats  him  like  a  rational  being. 
Interested  in  his  amusements  because  they 
are  his,  she  talks  to  him  about  his  sports,  his 
companions,  and  all  the  minutiae  that  fill  ap 
his  daily  life,  anticipating  all  the  while  such 
feelings  and  sentiments  as  she  believes  him 
to  possess,  or  at  least  gives  him  credit  for, 
and  thus  leads  him   to  confess;   while  the 
boy,  feeling  within  himself  the  dawning  of  a 
brighter  epoch  in  his  existence,  the  stirring 
up  of  half-formed  thoughts  about  to  be  ma- 
tured, is  happy  and  grateful  to  be  thus  err- 
couraged  to  speak  freely,  and  to  be  his  better 
self. 

Of  evenings  spent  in  this  manner,  who 
shall  estimate  the  value,  remembered  as  they 
often  are  in  after  life,  and  blended  as  they 
safely  may  be  with  that  portion  of  self-re- 
spect which  is  always  found  to  support  the 
persevering,  the  upright,  and  the  truly  great? 
The  cases  already  mentioned,  serve  but  as 
specimens  of  the  mass  of  evidence  that  might 
be  brought  forward  in  favor  of  the  utility  of 
conversation  judioiously  carried  on :    what, 
then,  must  be  said  of  the  responsibility  of 
those  who  possess  this  talent  in  its  highest 
perfection,  and  either  neglect  to  use  it  for  any 
laudable  purpose,  or  devote  it  to  a  bad  one  ? 
It  seems  to  be  too  much  the  opinion  of 
people  in  general,  that  agreeable  conversa- 
tion, like  many  other  agreeable  things,  is  only 
to  be  used  for   the   benefit  of  guests  and 
strangers.    The  truly  English,  domestic,  and 
ireside  companion  has  a  higher  estimate  of 
this  talent    She  knows  little  of  what  is  called 
the  world,  and  would  be  too  diffident  to  at- 
tempt to  make  a  figure  in  it  if  she  did.    Her 


THE  WOMEN  OF  ENGLAND. 


world  is  her  home  ;  and  here,  on  days  of  la- 
borious duty,  as  well  as  on  days  of  pleasure, 
— when  the  family  circle  are  met  around 
their  homely  hearth,  as  well  as  when  the  dis- 
tinguished guest  is  with  them — it  is  her  chief 
delight  to  beguile  what  might  otherwise  be  to 
them  heavy  hours,  with  cheerful  conversa- 
tion. It  is  to  her  parents,  her  husband,  her 
brothers,  and  her  sisters,  as  well  as  to  her  in- 
timate friends,  that  she  is  the  entertaining 
and  instructive  companion,  adapting  herself 
to  their  different  moods  and  temperaments, 
leading  forth  their  thoughts  beyond  them- 
selves, and  raising  them  above  the  sordid 
and  vexatious  cares  of  every-day  existence, 
until  her  voice  becomes  the  music  of  her 
home,  and  her  presence  the  charm  that  unites 
the  different  members  of  her  household  in  a 
sacred  bond  of  fellowship  and  peace. 

The  power  of  conversing  well,  presents  a 
great  temptation  to  a  vain  woman  to  use  it 
for  the  gratification  of  her  self-complacency. 
As  there  are  few  of  the  minor  circumstances 
of  life  more  mortifying  than  to  find,  that 
when  you  speak,  no  one  listens  to  the  end 
of  your  story  or  remark  ;  so  there  is  no  kind 
of  flattery  more  irresistible  than  to  find  that 
your  conversation  gathers  hearers,  more  and 
more ;  and  women  are  but  too  quick  to  de- 
tect the  interest  they  excite  depicted  upon 
every  face. 

There  is,  however,  a  wide  difference  be- 
tween the  moral  state  of  the  woman  who 
converses  well  in  company,  solely  for  the 
sake  of  obtaining  admiration,  and  of  her  who 
converses  well  for  the  sake  of  making  the 
time  pass  pleasantly  or  profitably  to  others. 
The  former  will  be  sure  to  be  found  among 
the  gentlemen,  especially  if  she  be  pleasing  in 
her  appearance,  and  she  will  have  wholly 
overlooked  the  neglected  or  insignificant  in- 
dividuals of  her  own  sex,  who  may  happen 
to  have  been  present.  The  other  will  have 
sought  out  the  silent  stranger — the  poor  rela- 
tion— the  plain  woman — and  all  the  most  in- 
significant or  unnoticed  persons  in  the  party. 
Especially  she  will  have  devoted  herself  to 
her  own  sex,  and  afforded  to  the  company 
that  rare,  but  noble  illustration  of  female  be- 


nevolence—a fascinating  woman  in  company 
choosing  to  make  herself  agreeable  to  women. 
If  any  action  arising  from  vanity  could  be 
either  commendable  or  great,  I  am  disposed 
to  think  it  would  be  so,  for  a  woman  to  show 
that  she  could  afford  to  tear  herself  away 
from  the  attentions  of  men,  and  devote  her 
powers  of  pleasing  to  her  own  sex.  The 
woman  we  have  described,  however,  has 
feelings  of  a  higher  order.  Her  object  is  to 
use  every  gift  she  possesses  for  the  happiness 
or  the  benefit  of  her  fellow-creatures,  and 
her  benevolence  prompts  her  to  seek  out 
those  who  are  most  in  need  of  kindness  and 
consideration.  Forgetful  of  herself,  she  re 
gards  her  ability  to  please  as  one  of  the  tal- 
ents committed  to  her  trust,  for  the  employ- 
ment of  which  she  must  render  an  account 
at  that  awful  tribunal  where  no  selfish  plea 
will  be  admitted.  And  thus  she  cultivates 
the  art  of  conversation  for  the  sake  of  in- 
creasing her  usefulness,  of  consoling  the  dis- 
tressed, of  instructing  the  ignorant,  and  of 
beguiling  of  half  their  heaviness  the  neces- 
sary cares  of  life. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

DOMESTIC  HABITS, CONSIDERATION  AND  KIND- 
NESS. 

ON  entering  upon  the  subject  of  the  do- 
mestic habits  of  the  women  of  England,  I 
feel  the  necessity  of  bearing  in  mind  that  all 
individuals  in  the  middle  class  of  society, 
and  even  all  who  are  connected  with  trade, 
are  by  no  means  under  the  same  obligations 
to  regard  their  own  personal  exertions  as  a 
duty.  So  far  from  this,  there  are  unques- 
tionably many  in  this  class  who  would  be 
entirely  out  of  their  province,  were  they  to 
ngage  in  the  manual  occupations  of  their 
families  and  households.  The  possession  of 
wealth  has  placed  them,  in  these  respects,  on 
the  same  footing  with  the  nobility,  and  they 
have,  without  doubt,  an  equal  right  to  enjoy 
the  luxuries  which  wealth  can  procure.  I 


54 


DOMESTIC  HABITS  OF 


am,  however,  no  less  convinced  that  the  ab- 
sence of  all  necessity  for  personal  exertion  is 
a  disadvantage  to  them,  and  that  their  hap- 
piness would  be  increased,  if  their  situations 
in  life  were  such  as  to  present  more  impera- 
tive claims  upon  their  individual  services. 

The  virtue  of  consideratencss  refers  strictly 
to  the  characters  and  circumstances  of  those 
around  us.  From  the  mistress  of  half  a  dozen 
servants,  therefore,  the  same  kind  of  consid- 
eration can  never  be  required,  as  from  the 
mistress  of  one  :  nor  can  the  lady  of  a  man- 
sion, even  though  her  husband  should  be  en- 
gaged in  trade,  feel  herself  called  to  the  same 
duties  as  the  farmer's  wife. 

The  considerateness  I  shall  attempt  to  de- 
fine is  one  of  the  highest  recommendations 
the  female  character  can  possess ;  because  it 
combines  an  habitual  examination  of  our  own 
situation  and  responsibilities,  with  a  quick 
discernment  of  the  character  and  feelings  of 
those  around  us,  and  a  benevolent  desire  to 
afford  them  as  much  pleasure,  and  spare 
them  as  much  pain,  as  we  can.  A  consider- 
ate woman  therefore,  whether  surrounded 
by  all  appliances  and  means  of  personal  en- 
joyment, or  depending  upon  the  use  of  her 
own  hands  for  the  daily  comforts  of  life,  will 
look  around  her,  and  consider  what  is  due  to 
those  whom  Providance  has  placed  -within 
ie  sphera  of  her  influence. 

The  man  who  voluntarily  undertakes  a 
difficult  and  responsible  business,  first  in- 
quires how  it  is  to  be  conducted  so  as  best 
to  ensure  success:  so  the  serious  and 
thoughtful  woman,  on  entering  upon  the  du- 
|  ties  of  domestic  life,  ascertains,  by  reflection 
and  observation,  in  what  manner  they  may 
be  performed  so  as  to  render  them  most  con- 
ducive to  the  great  end  she  has  in  view,  the 
promotion  of  the  happiness  of  others ;  and 
as  the  man  engaged  in  business  does  not  run 
hither  and  thither,  simply  to  make  a  show  of 
alacrity,  neither  does  the  woman  engaged  in 
a  higher  and  more  important  work,  allow 
herself  to  be  satisfied  with  her  own  willing- 
ness to  do  her  duty  without  a  diligent  and 
persevering  investigation  of  what  are  the 
most  effectual  means  by  which  it  can  be  done. 


Women  are  almost  universally  admonished 
of  their  duties  in  general  terms,  and  hence 
they  labor  under  great  disadvantages.  They 
are  told  to  be  virtuous ;  and  in  order  to  be 
so,  they  are  advised  to  be  kind  and  modest, 
orderly  and  discreet  But  few  teachers,  and 
fewer  writers,  condescend  to  take  up  the  mi- 
nutiae of  every-day  existence,  so  far  as  to  ex- 
plain in  what  distinct  and  individual  actions 
such  kindness,  modesty,  order,  and  discretion 
consist  Indeed,  the  cases  themselves  upon 
which  these  principles  of  right  conduct  are 
generally  brought  to  bear,  are  so  minute,  and 
so  apparently  insignificant,  that  the  writer 
who  takes  up  this  subject  must  not  only  be 
content  to  sacrifice  all  the  dignity  of  author- 
ship, but  must  submit  occasionally  to  a  smile 
of  contempt  for  having  filled  a  book  with 
trifles. 

In  order,  however,  to  ascertain  the  real  im- 
portance of  any  point  of  merit,  we  should  take 
into  consideration  its  direct  opposite.  We 
never  know  the  value  of  true  kindness,  so 
much  as  when  contrasted  with  unkindness ; 
and  lest  any  one  should  think  lightly  of  the 
virtue  of  consideration  as  a  moral  faculty,  let 
us  turn  our  attention  to  the  character  and 
habits  of  a  woman  who  is  without  it  Such 
are  not  difficult  to  find,  and  w&  find  them  often 
in  the  lovely,  and  the  seemingly  amiable  crea- 
tures of  impulse,  who  rush  about,  with  the 
impetus  of  the  moment  operating  as  their 
plea,  uncontrollable  affection  their  excuse,  and 
selfishness,  unknown  to  them,  the  moving 
spring  at  the  bottom  of  their  hearts.  These 
individuals  believe  themselves  to  be  so  entirely 
governed  by  amiable  feelings,  that  they  not 
unfrequently  boast  of  being  kind— nay,  too, 
kind-hearted:  but  upon  whom  does  their 
kindness  tell,  except  upon  themselves  ?  It  is 
true,  they  feel  the  impulse  to  be  kind,  and 
this  impulse  they  gratify  by  allowing  it  to 
operate  in  any  way  that  circumstances,  or 
their  own  caprice,  may  point  out  Yet,  after 
all,  how  often  is  their  kindness,  for  want  of 
consideration,  rendered  wholly  unavailable 
towards  the  promotion  of  any  laudable  or 
useful  purpose ! 

Nor  is  this  all.    Want  of  consideration  is 


THE  WOMEN  OF  ENGLAND. 


55 


often  the  occasion  of  absolute  pain :  and  those 
who,  because  they  deem  it  a  recommendation 
to  act  from  the  impulse  of  the  moment,  will 
not  take  the  trouble  to  reflect,  are  always,  in  a 
greater  or  less  degree,  liable  to  inflict  misery 
upon  others. 

I  remember  walking  home  on  a  beautiful 
summer's  evening,  with  one  of  these  lovely 
and  impetuous  creatures,  who  was  then  just 
entering  upon  all  the  rights  and  privileges  of 
a  belle,  and,  to  my  great  surprise,  observing 
that  she  trod  indiscriminately  upon  all  the 
creeping  things  which  the  damp  and  the  dew 
had  tempted  forth  in  our  path,  I  remonstra- 
ted with  her,  of  course ;  but  she  turned  to  me 
with  her  bewitching  air  of  naivete,  and  said — 
"  And  pray,  why  may  I  not  tread  upon  the 
snails?" — Further  remonstrance  was  unne- 
cessary, for  the  mind  which  had  attained  ma- 
turity without  feeling  enough  to  prevent  this 
reckless  and  disgusting  waste  of  life,  must  of 
necessity  have  been  impervious  to  reason. 

And  thus  it  is  with  considerateness  in  gen- 
eral. If  the  season  of  youth  glides  over  be- 
fore habits  of  consideration  are  acquired,  they 
will  come  tardily,  and  with  little  grace,  in 
after  life.  Want  of  consideration  for  those  of 
our  fellow-creatures  whose  love  is  of  import- 
ance to  us,  is  not,  however,  a  subject  upon 
which  we  have  so  much  cause  for  complaint 
Jt  is  towards  those  to  whom  we  are  connect- 
ed by  social  ties,  without  affection — and  under 
this  head,  the  situation  of  our  servants  and 
domesf  cs  claims  the  greatest  care. 

Servants  are  generally  looked  upon,  by 
thoughtless  young  ladies,  as  a  sort  of  house- 
hold machinery,  and  when  that  machinery  is 
of  sufficient  extent  to  operate  upon  every 
branch  of  the  establishment,  there  can  be  no 
reason  why  it  should  not  be  brought  into  ex- 
ercise, and  kept  in  motion  to  any  extent  that 
may  not  be  injurious.  This  machinery,  how- 
ever, is  composed  of  individuals  possessing 
hearts  as  susceptible  of  certain  kinds  of  feel- 
ing, as  those  of  the  more  privileged  beings  to 
whose  comfort  and  convenience  it  is  their 
daily  business  to  minister.  They  know  and 
feel  that  their  lot  in  this  world  is  compara- 
tively hard :  and  if  they  are  happily  free  from 


all  presumptuous  questionings  of  the  wisdom 
and  justice  of  Providence  in  placing  them 
where  they  are,  they  are  alive  to  the  convic- 
tion that  the  burden  of  each  day  is  suffi- 
cient, and  often  more  than  sufficient  for  their 
strength. 

In  speaking  of  the  obligation  we  are  under 
to  our  domestics  for  their  faithful  services,  it 
is  no  uncommon  thing  to  be  answered  by  this 
unmeaning  remark  ;  "  They  are  well  paid  for 
what  they  do  :"  as  if  the  bare  fact  of  receiv- 
ing food  and  clothing  for  their  daily  labor, 
placed  them  on  the  same  footing  with  regard 
to  comfort,  as  those  who  receive  their  food 
and  clothing  for  doing  nothing. 

There  is  also  another  point  of  view  in  which 
this  class  of  our  fellow-creatures  is  very  un- 
fairly judged.  Servants  are  required  to  have 
no  faults.  It  is  by  no  means  uncommon  to 
find  the  mistress  of  a  family,  who  has  enjoy- 
ed all  the  advantages  of  moral  and  even  re- 
ligious education,  allowing  herself  to  exhibit 
the  most  unqualified  excess  of  indignation  at 
the  petty  faults  of  a  servant,  who  has  never 
enjoyed  either  ;  and  to  hear  her  speak  as  if 
she  was  injured,  imposed  upon,  insulted  be- 
fore her  family,  because  the  servant,  who  was 
engaged  to  work  for  her,  had  been  betrayed 
into  impertinence  by  a  system  of  reproof  as 
much  at  variance  with  Christian  meekness, 
as  the  retort  it  was  so  well  calculated  to  pro- 
voke. 

Women  of  such  habits,  would  perhaps  be 
a  little  surprised,  if  told,  that  when  a  lady  de- 
scends from  her  own  proper  station,  to  speak 
in  an  irritating  or  injurious  manner  to  a  ser- 
vant, she  is  herself  guilty  of  impertinence,  and 
that  no  domestic  of  honest  and  upright  spirit 
will  feel  that  such  treatment  ought  to  be  sub- 
mitted to. 

On  the  other  hand,  there  is  a  degree  of 
kindness  blended  with  dignity,  which  servants, 
who  are  not  absolutely  depraved,  are  able  to 
appreciate  ;  and  the  slight  effort  required  to 
obtain  their  confidence,  is  almost  invariably 
repaid  by  a  double  share  of  affectionate  and 
faithful  service. 

The  situation  of  living  unloved  by  their  do- 
mestics is  one  which  I  should  hope  there  are 


M 


DOMESTIC  HABITS  OF 


few  women  capable  of  enduring  with  indiffer- 
ence. The  cold  attentions  rendered  without 
affection,  and  curtailed  by  every  allowable 
means,  the  short  unqualified  reply  to  every 
question,  the  averted  look,  the  privilege  stolen 
rather  than  solicited,  the  secret  murmur  that 
is  able  to  make  itself  understood  without  the 
use  of  words — all  these  are  parts  of  a  system 
of  behavior  that  chills  the  very  soul,  and  forces 
upon  the  mind  the  unwelcome  conviction, 
that  a  stranger  who  partakes  not  in  our  com- 
mon lot,  is  within  our  domestic  circle ;  or  that 
an  alien  who  enters  not  into  the  sphere  of  our 
home  associations,  attends  upon  our  social 
board ;  nay,  so  forcible  is  the  impression,  as 
almost  to  extend  to  a  feeling  that  an  enemy 
is  among  the  members  of  our  own  house- 
hold. 

How  different  is  the  impression  produced 
by  a  manner  calculated  both  to  win  their 
confidence  and  inspire  their  respect!  The 
kind  welcome  after  absence,  the  watchful  eye, 
the  anticipation  of  every  wish,  the  thousand 
little  attentions  and  acts  of  service  beyond 
what  are  noted  in  the  bond — who  can  resist 
the  influence  of  these  upon  the  heart,  and  not 
desire  to  pay  them  back — not  certainly  in  their 
own  kind  and  measure,  but  in  the  only  way 
they  can  be  returned  consistenly  with  the  rel- 
ative duties  of  both  parties — in  kindness  and 
consideration  ] 

It  is  not,  however,  in  seasons  of  health  and 
prosperity,  that  this  bond  between  the  differ- 
ent members  of  a  family  can  be  felt  in  its  full 
force.  There  is  no  woman  so  happily  cir- 
cumstanced, but  that  she  finds  some  link  bro- 
ken in  the  charm  which  binds  her  to  this 
world — some  shadow  cast  upon  her  earthly 
pictures.  The  best  beloved  are  not  always 
those  who  love  the  best;  and  expectation 
will  exceed  reality,  even  in  the  most  favored 
tot.  There  are  hours  of  sadness  that  will 
steal  in,  even  upon  the  sunny  prime  of  life ; 
and  they  are  not  felt  the  less,  because  it  is 
sometimes  impossible  to  communicate  the  rea- 
son for  such  sadness  to  those  who  are  them- 
selves the  cause.  In  such  cases,  and  while 
the  heart  is  in  some  degree  estranged  from 
natural  and  familiar  fellowship,  we  are  thrown 


more  especially  upon  the  kindness  and  affec- 
tion of  our  domestics  for  the  consolation  we 
feel  it  impossible  to  live  without  They  may 
be,  and  they  ought  to  be,  wholly  unacquainted 
with  the  cause  of  our  disquietude ;  but  a 
faithfully  attached  servant,  without  presuming 
beyond  her  proper  sphere,  is  quick  to  discern 
the  tearful  eye,  the  gloomy  brow,  the  coun- 
tenance depressed ;  and  it  is  at  such  times 
that  their  kindness,  solicitude,  and  delicate 
attentions,  might  often  put  to  shame  the  higher 
pretensions  of  superior  refinement 

In  cases  of  illness  or  death,  it  is  perhaps 
more  especially  their  merit  to  prove,  by  their 
indefatigable  and  unrequited  assiduities,  how 
much  they  make  the  interest  of  the  family 
their  own,  and  how  great  is  their  anxiety  to 
remove  all  lighter  causes  of  annoyance  from 
interference  with  the  greater  affliction  in 
which  those  around  them  are  involved. 
There  is  scarcely  a  more  pitiable  object  in 
creation  than  a  helpless  invalid  left  entirely  to 
the  care  of  domestics  whose  affection  never 
has  been  sought  or  won.  But,  on  the  other 
hand,  the  readiness  with  which  they  will  some- 
times sacrifice  their  needful  rest,  and  that, 
night  after  night,  to  watch  the  feverish  slum- 
bers of  a  fretful  invalid,  is  one  of  those  re- 
deeming features  in  the  aspect  of  human  na- 
ture which  it  is  impossible  to  regard  without 
feelings  of  admiration  and  gratitude. 

The  question  necessarily  follows, — how  are 
our  domestics  to  be  won  over  to  this  confi- 
dence and  affection?  It  comes  not  by  na- 
ture, for  no  tie,  except  what  necessarily  im- 
plies authority  and  subjection,  exists  between 
us.  It  cannot  come  by  mutual  acts  of  service, 
because  the  relation  between  us  is  of  such  a 
nature  as  to  place  the  services  almost  entire- 
ly on  their  side,  the  benefits  derived  from 
such  services,  on  ours.  It  comes,  then,  by 
instances  of  consideration,  showing  that  we 
have  their  interests  at  heart  in  the  same  de- 
gree that  we  expect  them  to  have  ours.  We 
cannot  actually  do  much  for  them,  because  it 
would  be  out  of  our  province,  and  a  means 
of  removing  them  out  of  theirs  ;  but  we  can 
think  and  feel  for  them,  and  thus  lighten  or 
add  weight  to  their  burdens,  by  the  manner 


THE  WOMEN  OF  ENGLAND. 


57 


in  which  our  most  trifling  and  familiar  actions 
are  performed. 

In  a  foregoing  chapter,  I  have  ventured  a 
few  hints  on  the  subject  of  manners,  chiefly 
as  regards  their  influence  among  those  who 
meet  us  upon  equal  terms  in  the  social  affairs 
of  life.  The  influence  of  the  manner  we 
choose  to  adopt  in  our  intercourse  with  ser- 
vants, is  of  such  importance  as  to  deserve  fur- 
ther notice  than  the  nature  of  this  work  will 
allow. 

There  is  a  phenomenon  sometimes  witness- 
ed at  the  head  of  a  well-appointed  table,  from 
which  many  besides  myself  have  no  doubt 
started  with  astonishment  and  disgust  A 
well-dressed,  well-educated  lady,  attired  in  the 
most  becoming  and  fashionable  costume,  is 
engaged  in  conversing  with  her  friends,  press- 
ing them  to  partake  of  her  well-flavored  vi- 
ands, and  looking  and  speaking  with  the 
blandest  smiles ;  when  suddenly  one  of  the 
servants  is  beckoned  towards  her,  and  with 
an  instantaneous  expression  of  countenance, 
in  which  is  concealed  the  passion  and  the  im- 
periousness  of  a  whole  lifetime,  he  is  admon- 
ished of  his  duty  in  sharp  whispers  that  seem 
to  hiss  like  lightning  in  his  ears.  The  lady 
then  turns  round  to  her  guests,  is  again  array- 
ed in  smiles,  and  prepared  again  to  talk 
sweetly  of  the  sympathies  and  amiabilities  of 
our  common  nature. 

There  is,  it  must  be  confessed,  a  most  ob- 
jectionable manner  which  blends  familiarity 
with  confidence  ;  and  this  ought  to  be  guard- 
ed against  as  much  in  reproof  as  in  commen- 
dation ;  for  it  cannot  be  expected  that  a  mis- 
tress who  reproves  her  servant  with  coarse- 
ness and  vulgarity,  will  be  treated  with  much 
delicacy  in  return.  The  consideration  I  would 
recommend,  so  far  from  inviting  familiarity, 
is  necessarily  connected  with  true  dignity,  be- 
cause it  implies  in  the  most  undeviating  man- 
ner, a  strict  regard  to  the  relative  position  of 
both  parties.  Let  us  see  then  in  what  it  con- 
sists, or  rather  let  us  place  it  in  a  stronger 
light  by  pointing  out  instances  in  which  the 
absence  of  it  is  most  generally  felt 

There  are  many  young  ladies,  and  some  old 
ones,  with  whom  the  patronage  of  pets  appears 


to  be  an  essential  part  of  happiness ;  and  these 
pets,  as  various  as  the  tastes  they  gratify,  are 
all  alike  in  one  particular — they  are  all  trouble- 
some. If  a  lady  engages  her  servants  with 
an  understanding  that  they  are  to  wait  upon 
her  domestic  animals,  no  one  can  accuse  her 
of  injustice.  But  if,  with  barely  a  sufficient 
number  of  domestics  to  perform  the  necessa- 
ry labor  of  her  household,  she  establishes  a 
menagerie,  and  expects  the  hard-working  ser- 
vants to  undertake  the  additional  duty  of 
waiting  upon  her  pets — perhaps  the  most  re- 
pulsive creatures  in  existence  to  them — such 
additional  service  ought  at  least  to  be  solicit- 
ed as  a  favor  ;  and  she  will  have  no  right  to 
feel  indignant,  should  the  favor  be  sometimes 
granted  in  a  manner  neither  gracious  nor  con- 
ciliating. 

When  a  servant  who  has  been  all  day  la- 
boring hard  to  give  an  aspect  of  comfort  and 
cleanliness  to  the  particular  department  com- 
mitted to  her  care,  sees  the  young  ladies  of 
the  family  come  home  from  their  daily  walk, 
and,  never  dreaming  of  her,  or  her  hard  la- 
bor, trample  over  the  hall  and,  stairs  without 
stopping  to  rid  themselves  of  that  encum- 
brance of  clay,  which  a  fanciful  writer  has 
classed  among  the  "miseries  of  human  life," 
is  it  to  be  expected  that  the  servant  who  sees 
this  should  be  so  far  uninfluenced  by  the  pas- 
sions of  humanity,  as  not  to  feel  the  stirrings 
of  rage  and  resentment  in  her  bosom  1  And 
when  this  particular  act  is  repeated  every 
day,  and  followed  up  by  others  of  the  same 
description,  the  frequently  recurring  sensa- 
tions of  rage  and  resentment,  so  naturally  ex- 
cited, will  strengthen  into  those  of  habitual  dis- 
like, and  produce  that  cold  service  and  grudg- 
ing kindness  which  has  already  been  described. 

There  are  thousands  of  little  acts  of  this  de- 
scription, such  as  ordering  the  tired  servants 
at  an  unseasonable  hour  to  prepare  an  early 
breakfast,  and  then  not  being  ready  yourself 
before  the  usual  time — being  habitually  too 
late  for  dinner,  without  any  sufficient  reason, 
and  having  a  second  dinner  served  up — ring- 
ing the  bell  for  the  servant  to  leave  her  washing, 
cooking,  or  cleaning,  and  come  up  to  you  to  re- 
ceive orders  to  fetch  your  thimble  or  scissors, 


58 


DOMESTIC  HABITS  OF 


from  the  highest  apartment  in  the  house— all 
which  need  no  comment ;  and  surely  those 
servants  must  be  more  than  human  who  can 
experience  the  effects  of  such  a  system  of 
behavior,  carried  on  for  days,  months,  and 
years,  and  not  feel,  and  feel  bitterly,  that  they 
are  themselves  regarded  as  mere  machines, 
while  their  comfort  and  convenience  is  as 
much  left  out  of  calculation,  as  if  they  were 
nothing  more. 

It  is  an  easy  thing,  on  entering  a  family,  to 
ascertain  whether  the  female  members  of  it 
are,  or  are  not,  considerate.  Where  they  are 
not,  there  exists,  as  a  necessary  consequence, 
a  constant  series  of  murmurings,  pleadings, 
remonstrances,  and  attempted  justificationsi 
which  sadly  mar  the  happiness  of  fti§  house- 
hold. On  the  other  hand,  where  the  female 
members  of  the  family  are  considerate,  there 
is  a  secret  spring  of  sympathy  linking  all 
hearts  together,  as  if  they  were  moved  by  a 
simultaneous  impulse  of  kindness  on  one  side, 
and  gratitude  on  the  other.  Few  words  have 
need  to  be  spoken,  few  professions  to  be  made, 
for  each  is  hourly  discovering  that- they  have 
been  the  subject  of  affectionate  solicitude,  and 
they  are  consequently  on  the  watch  for  every 
opportunity  to  make  an  adequate  return.  If 
the  brother  comes  home  sad  or  weary,  the 
sister  to  whom  he  has  pledged  himself  to 
§ome  jxertion,  detects  the  languor  of  his  eye, 
and  refrains  from  pr3ssing  upon  him  a  fulfil- 
ment of  his  promise;  if  the  sister  is  laboring 
under  depression,  the  brother  feels  himself  es- 
pecially called  upon  to  stand  forward  as  her 
friend ;  and  if  one  of  the  family  be  suffering 
even  slightly  from  indisposition,  there  are 
watchful  eyes  around,  and  the  excursion  is 
cheerfully  given  up  by  one,  the  party  by  an- 
other, and  a  quiet  social  evening  is  unani- 
mously agreed  upon  to  be  spent  at  home,  and 
agreed  upon  in  such  a  way  as  that  the  inva- 
lid shall  never  suspect  it  has  been  done  at 
the  cost  of  any  pleasure. 

There  is  no  proof  of  affection  more  kindly 
prompted  and  more  gratefully  received,  than 
that  of  easily  detecting  uncomplained-of  in- 
disposition. We  might  almost  single  out  this 
faculty  as  the  surest  test  of  love— for  who 


observes  the  incipient  wrinkle  on  a  stranger's 
brow,  or  marks  the  gradually  increasing  pale- 
ness of  an  unloved  cheek  7  Or  what  can 
convince  us  more  effectually  that  we  are  in 
a  world  of  strangers,  to  whom  our  interests 
are  as  nothing,  than  to  be  pressed  on  every 
hand  to  do  what  our  bodily  strength  is  une- 
qual to. 

There  are  points  of  consideration  in  which 
we  often  practice  great  self-deception.  "  Don't 
you  think  it  would  do  you  good,  my  dear  ]" 
asks  the  young  lady  of  her  sickly  sister,  when 
the  day  of  promised  pleasure  is  at  hand,  and 
she  begins  to  fear  her  sister's  cough  will  ren- 
der it  impossible  to  go  from  home.  "The 
pain  in  your  foot,  my  love,  is  considerably 
better,"  says  the  wife  to  her  husband,  when 
she  thinks  the  fashionables  are  about  leaving 
Bath.  "You  are  looking  extremely  well," 
says  the  niece  to  her  aged  uncle,  who  has 
promised  to  take  her  to  Paris;  "I  think  I 
never  saw  you  look  so  well."  But  all  this  is 
not  love.  It  does  not  feel  like  love  to  the 
parties  addressed ;  for  nature  is  true  to  her- 
self, and  she  will  betray  the  secrets  of  art 
How  different  are  the  workings  of  that  deep 
and  earnest  affection  that  sees  with  one 
glance  how  unreasonable  it  would  be  to  drag 
forth  the  invalid  to  any  participation  in  the 
enjoyments  of  health ;  and  how  welcome  is 
tha  gentle  Trhisper  which  assures  us  that  one 
watchful  eye  perceives  our  suffering,  one 
sympathizing  ear  participates  in  our  weak- 
ness and  distress ;  for  it  ts  distress  to  be 
compelled  to  complain  that  we  are  unequal 
to  do  what  the  happiness  of  others  depends 
upon  our  doing ;  and  never  is  the  voice  of 
friendship  employed  in  a  more  kindly  office, 
than  when  pleading  the  cause  of  our  in- 
firmity. 

It  is  chiefly  with  regard  to  the  two  sister 
virtues  of  consideration  and  kindness,  that  I 
look  upon  the  women  of  England  as  so  highly 
privileged ;  because  the  nature  of  their  social 
and  domestic  circumstances  is  such,  as  to 
afford  them  constantly-recurring  opportuni- 
ties of  proving  that  they  think  often  and 
kindly  of  others,  without  any  departure  from 
the  wonted  routine  of  their  conduct,  that 


THE  WOMEN  OF  ENGLAND. 


59 


might  wear  the  character  of  a  pointed  appli- 
cation of  such  feelings. 

It  has  a  startling,  and  by  no  means  an 
agreeable  effect  upon  the  mind,  when  a  wo- 
man who  is  not  habitually  accustomed  to  any 
sort  of  practical  kindness,  so  far  deviates  from 
her  usual  line  of  conduct,  as  to  perform  any 
personal  service  solely  for  ourselves.  We 
feel  that  she  has  been  troubled,  and  suspect 
that  she  has  been  annoyed.  But  women  ac- 
customed to  practical  duties  are  able  to  turn 
the  whole  tide  of  their  affectionate  solicitude 
into  channels  so  wholesome  and  salutary, 
that  our  pride  is  not  wounded  by  the  obliga- 
tion under  which  we  are  placed,  nor  is  our 
sense  of  gratitude  impaired  by  the  pain  of 
being  singled  out  as  the  object  of  unwonted 
and  elaborate  attentions. 

In  order  to  illustrate  the  subject  by  a  fa- 
miliar instance,  let  us  imagine  one  of  those 
events  experienced  by  all  who  have  lived  to 
years  of  maturity,  and  experienced  in  such 
a  way  as  to  have  thrown  them  in  a  peculiar 
manner  upon  the  'domestic  comforts  of  the 
circle  to  which  they  were  introduced — the 
arrival,  after  long  travel,  on  a  visit  to  an  early 
and  highly  valued  friend. 

It  is  not  necessary  to  this  picture,  that  park 
gates  should  be  thrown  open,  and  footmen 
stationed  on  the  steps  of  the  hall ;  it  will  bet- 
ter serve  our  purpose,  that  the  mistress  of 
the  house  should  herself  be  the  first  to  meet 
her  guest,  with  that  genuine  welcome  in  her 
looks  and  manner  that  leaves  nothing  to  be 
expressed  by  words.  We  will  suppose  that 
with  her  own  hand  she  displaces  all  the  en- 
cumbrance of  extra  wrappings,  rendered  ne- 
cessary by  the  winter's  journey,  and  having 
quietly  dismissed  the  expectant  chaise-driver 
or  porter,  she  leads  her  friend  into  the  neatly 
furnished  parlor,  where  another  and  a  more 
familiar  welcome  seems  at  once  to  throw 
open  her  heart  and  her  house  for  her  recep- 
tion. A  fire  that  has  been  designedly  built 
up,  is  then  most  energetically  stirred,  until  a 
bright  and  genial  blaze  diffuses  its  light  around 
the  room,  and  the  guest  begins  to  glow  with 
the  two-fold  warmth  of  a  welcome  and  a 
winter's  fire. 


In  the  mean  time,  the  servant,  well  taught 
in  the  mysteries  of  hospitality,  conveys  the 
luggage  up  stairs  unseen,  and  the  guest  is 
led  to  the  chamber  appointed  for  her  nightly 
rest  There,  most  especially,  is  both  seen 
and  felt  the  kind  feeling  that  has  taken  into 
account  her  peculiar  tastes,  and  anticipated 
all  her  well-remembered  wishes.  The  east 
or  the  west  apartment  has  been  chosen,  ac- 
cording to  the  preference  she  has  been  known 
to  express  in  days  long  since  gone  by,  when 
she  and  her  friend  were  girls  together ;  and 
thus  the  chain  of  fond  and  cherished  recol- 
lections is  made  to  appear  again  unbroken 
after  the  lapee  of  years,  and  a  conviction  is 
silently  impressed  upon  the  mind  of  the  trav- 
eller— perhaps  the  most  welcome  of  all  earthly 
sources  of  assurances — that  we  have  been 
remembered,  not  merely  in  the  abstract — but 
that  through  long,  long  years  of  change  and 
separation,  time  has  not  obliterated  from  the 
mind  of  a  dear  friend,  the  slightest  trace  of 
our  individuality. 

Perhaps  none  can  tell  until  they  have  ar- 
rived at  middle  age,  what  is  in  reality  the 
essential  sweetness  of  this  conviction.  In  our 
association  with  the  world,  we  may  have  ob- 
tained for  our  industry,  our  usefulness,  or  it 
may  be  for  our  talents,  a  measure  of  approval 
at  least  commensurate  with  our  deserts ;  but 
give  back  to  the  worn  and  the  weary  in  this 
world's  warfare,  the  friends  of  their  early 
youth — the  friends  who  loved  them,  faults 
and  all — the  friends  who  could  note  down 
their  very  follies  without  contempt,  and  who 
attached  a  degree  of  interest  and  importance 
to  the  trifling  peculiarities  of  their  temper 
and  feelings,  which  rendered  them  indelible 
memorials  of  an  attachment,  such  as  never 
can  be  formed  in  after  life. 

To  return  from  this  digression.  The  Eng- 
lish woman,  in  the  unsophisticated  beauty  of 
her  character,  has  a  power  far  surpassing 
what  can  be  attained  by  the  most  scrupulous 
observance  of  the  rules  of  art,  of  thus  invest- 
ing her  familiar  and  social  actions  with  a 
charm  that  goes  directly  to  the  heart. 

We  have  traced  the  traveller  to  the  cham- 
ber of  her  rest,  and  it  is  not  in  the  choice  of 


DOMESTIC  HABITS  OF 


this  room  alone,  but  in  its  furniture  and  gen- 
eral aspect,  that  she  reads  the  cheering  truth 
of  a  superintending  care  having  been  exer- 
cised over  all  it  contains,  in  strict  reference 
to  herselft  not  merely  as  an  honored  guest, 
but  as  a  lover  of  this  or  that  small  article  of 
comfort  or  convenience,  which  in  the  world 
of  comparative  strangers  among  whom  she 
has  been  living,  she  has  seldom  thought  it 
worth  her  while  to  stipulate  for,  and  still  less 
frequently  has  had  referred  to  her  choice. 

Now,  it  is  evident  that  the  mistress  of  the 
house  herself  must  have  been  here.  With 
her  own  hand  she  must  have  placed  upon 
the  table  the  favorite  toilet-cushion,  worked 
by  a  friend  who  was  alike  dear  to  herself  and 
her  guest  With  her  own  hand  she  must 
have  selected  the  snow-white  linen,  and  laid 
out,  not  in  conspicuous  obtrusiveness,  a  few 
volumes  calculated  for  the  hours  of  silent 
meditation,  when  her  friend  shall  be  alone. 

It  is  impossible  that  the  services  of  the 
most  faithful  domestic  should  be  able  to  con- 
vey half  the  heartfelt  meaning  indicated  by 
these  few  familiar  acts,  so  richly  worth  their 
cost  It  is  not  from  the  circumstance  of 
having  all  our  wants  supplied,  that  the  most 
lively  satisfaction  is  derived  ;  it  is  from  the 
cheering  fact  that  we  ourselves,  in  our  indi- 
vidual capacity,  have  been  the  object  of  so 
much  faithful  recollection  and  untiring  love. 

Instead  therefore  of  regarding  it  as  a  sub- 
ject for  murmuring  and  complaint,  that  her 
means  of  personal  indulgence  do  not  supply 
her  with  a  greater  number  of  domestics,  the 
true  English  woman  ought  rather  to  esteem 
it  a  privilege  that  her  station  in  life  is  such  as 
to  place  her  in  the  way  of  imparting  this  ra- 
tional and  refined  enjoyment 

We  cannot  imagine  the  first  day  of  hospi- 
table welcome  complete  without  our  visitor 
being  introduced  to  that  concatenation  of 
comforts — an  early  tea.  On  descending  from 
her  chamber,  then,  she  finds  all  things  in 
readiness  for  this  grateful  and  refreshing 
meal.  Her  attention  is  not  distracted  by 
apologies  for  what  is  not  there,  but  what,  on 
such  occasions,  frequently  might  have  been, 
at  the  cost  of  half  the  effort  required  for  an 


elaborate  excuse.  As  if  the  fairy  order  had 
been  at  work,  the  table  is  spread  with  all 
things  most  agreeable  after  weary  travel ; 
and  the  guest,  instead  of  being  pressed  to  eat 
with  such  assiduity  that  she  begins  to  think 
her  visit  has  no  other  object,  is  only  inter- 
rupted by  kind  inquiries  relating  to  home  as- 
sociations, and  is  beguiled  into  a  prolonga- 
tion of  her  meal,  by  being  drawn  out  into  a 
detail  of  the  events  of  her  journey. 

As  the  evening  passes  on,  their  conversa- 
tion becomes  more  intimate,  and  while  it 
deepens  in  interest,  that  full  expansion  of  the 
soul  takes  place,  under  which,  whatever 
English  women  may  be  in  the  superficial  in- 
tercourse of  polished  life,  I  have  no  scruple 
in  saying,  that  as  fireside  companions,  they 
are  the  most  delightful  upon  earth.  There 
are  such  vivid  imaginings,  and  such  touches 
of  native  humor,  such  deep  well-springs  of 
feeling,  beyond  their  placid  exterior ;  that 
when  they  dare  to  come  forth,  and  throw 
themselves  upon  the  charity  or  affection  of 
their  hearers,  one  is  beguiled  into  a  fascina- 
tion the  more  intense,  because  it  combines 
originality  of  thought  with  gentle  manners, 
and  in  a  peculiar  and  forcible  way  invests 
the  cherished  recollections  of  the  past,  with 
the  fresh  warm  coloring  of  the  present  hour. 
It  is  not  amidst  congregated  masses  of 
society,  that  the  true  English  woman  can  ex- 
hibit her  native  powers  of  conversation.  It 
It  is  when  two  are  met  together,  with  per- 
haps a  husband  or  a  brother  for  a  third,  and 
the  midnight  hour  steals  on,  and  yet  they 
take  no  note  of  time,  for  they  are  opening  out 
their  separate  store  of  treasures  from  the 
deep  of  memory,  sharing  them  with  each 
other,  and  blending  all  with  such  bright  an- 
ticipations of  the  future,  as  none  but  a  wo- 
man's imagination  can  enjoy,  with  faith  in 
their  reality. 

Or,  perhaps,  they  are  consulting  upon  some 
difficult  point  of  duty,  or  sympathizing  with 
each  other  in  affliction ;  and  then,  where 
shall  we  look  but  to  the  English  woman  for 
the  patient  listener,  the  faithful  counsellor, 
the  stanch  supporter  of  each  virtuous  pur- 
pose, the  keen  discerner  in  points  of  doubtful 


THE  WOMEN  OF  ENGLAND. 


61 


merit,  and  the  untiring  comforter  in  every 
hour  of  need. 

It  would  be  too  tedious,  and  might  to  some 
appear  too  trifling,  were  I  to  trace  out  the 
conduct  of  the  being  here  described,  through 
more  of  the  familiar  scenes  presented  by  do- 
mestic life.  It  may  also  be  thought  by  some 
who  know  little  of  women  in  this  capacity, 
that  I  am  drawing  merely  from  imagination ; 
others  will  know  that  my  coloring  is  true — 
that  human  life,  in  some  of  its  obscurest 
passages,  has  secrets  of  moral  excellence  in 
the  female  character,  presenting  objects  as 
lovely  as  ever  were  revealed  to  the  poet's 
fancy.  Alas !  for  those  whose  memory  alone 
supplies  them  with  the  materials  for  this  pic- 
ture— who  now  can  only  feel  that  "such 
things  were." 

The  charge  of  trifling  is  one  I  should  be 
sorry  to  incur  in  writing  on  a  subject  so  seri- 
ous as  the  domestic  morals  of  women  ;  yet 
how  to  enter  into  a  detail  sufficiently  minnte 
without,  I  confess  I  do  not  clearly  see.  I 
must,  therefore,  again  pause,  and  ask  the 
reader,  in  my  own  defence,  of  what  the  ordi- 
nary life  of  a  woman  of  the  middle  class  of 
society  is  composed,  but  a  mass  of  trifles,  out 
of  which  arises  the  happiness  or  the  misery 
of  a  numerous  and  important  portion  of  the 
human  race!  I  would  also  ask,  What  is  a 
woman  who  despises  trifles  ]  She  may  pos- 
sibly enjoy,  with  undisputed  dignity,  a  niche 
in  the  temple  of  fame,  but  she  ought  never  to 
descend  from  her  marble  pedestal,  to  mingle 
with  the  social  circle  around  the  living  blaze 
of  the  domestic  hearth.  Those  quiet,  unob- 
trusive virtues,  which  are  ever  the  most  love- 
ly in  the  female  character,  must  necessarily 
be  the  most  difficult  to  define.  They  are  so 
much  more  felt  than  seen — so  much  better 
understood  than  described — that  to  give  them 
a  name  would  be  impossible,  and  even  to 
portray  them  in  an  ideal  picture  might  not 
perhaps  convey  to  the  mind  of  the  beholder 
any  adequate  idea  of  their  importance.  But, 
as  *in  painting  a  finished  picture,  the  skill  of 
the  artist  is  not  only  required  in  the  general 
outline,  but  is  equally  requisite  in  the  filling- 
up,  so  the  perfection  of  the  female  character 


is  not  sufficiently  indicated  by  saying  she  is 
possessed  of  every  virtue,  unless  we  point 
out  the  individual  instances  upon  which  those 
virtues  are  brought  to  bear ;  and  the  mord 
minute  and  delicate  their  aspect,  if  they  are 
but  frequently  presented  to  our  notice,  the 
stronger  is  our  conviction  that  virtuous  prin- 
ciple is  the  ground-work  of  the  whole. 

With  regard  to  the  particular  instance  al- 
ready described,  the  case  may  perhaps  be 
more  clearly  illustrated  by  adding  a  picture 
of  an  opposite  description,  in  order  to  ascer- 
tain in  what  particular  points  the  two  cases 
differ. 

For  this  purpose,  we  will  imagine  a  wo- 
man distinguished  by  no  extreme  of  charac- 
ter, receiving  her  guest  under  precisely  the 
same  circumstances  as  the  one  already  de- 
scribed. In  this  case,  the  visitor  is  permitted 
to  see  that  her  hostess  has  reluctantly  laid 
down  her  book  at  the  latest  possible  period 
of  time  which  politeness  would  allow ;  or, 
after  her  guest  has  remained  twenty  minutes 
in  a  vacant,  and  by  no  means  inviting  par- 
lor, she  comes  toiling  up  from  the  kitchen, 
with  a  countenance  that  makes  it  dreadful 
to  be  adding  to  her  daily  fatigues  by  placing 
one's  self  at  her  table  ;  and  she  answers  the 
usual  inquiries  of  her  friend,  as  to  her  state 
of  health,  with  a  minute  detail  of  the  vari- 
ous phenomena  of  a  headache  with  which 
she  has  that  morning  been  attacked.  The 
one  domestic  is  then  called  up — and  wo  be- 
tide that  family,  whose  daily  services,  un- 
practised by  its  individual  members  towards 
each  otlier,  all  emanate  from  one  domestic. 

The  one  domestic  then  is  ordered,  in  the 
hearing  of  the  guest,  to  take  all  the  luggage 
up  stairs,  to  bring  hot  water,  towels,  soap — 
to  turn  the  carpets — run  for  the  best  looking- 
glass — and  see  that  tea  is  ready  by  the  time 
the  friend  comes  down.  The  party  then  as- 
cend, accompanied  by  the  panting  servant, 
into  a  room,  upon  which  no  kind  of  care  has 
been  bestowed.  It  may  possibly  be  neat — so 
neat  that  the  guest  supposes  it  never  has 
been,  and  is  not  yet  intended  to  be,  used. 
Yes,  every  thing  is  in  its  place  ;  but  a  gene- 
ral blank  pervades  the  whole,  and  it  is  not 


DOMESTIC  HABITS  OF 


the  least  of  the  disappointments  experienced 
by  our  guest,  that  she  finds  no  water  to  re- 
fresh her  aching  temples.  The  mistress  of  the 
house  is  angry  at  this  neglect,  and  rings  the 
bell.  The  servant  ascends  from  the  kitchen 
to  the  highest  room,  to  learn  that  she  must 
go  down  again,  and  return,  before  half  the 
catalogue  of  her  faults  has  been  told. 

On  such  errands  as  this,  she  is  employed 
until  the  party  descend  to  the  parlor,  where 
the  bell  is  again  rung  more  imperatively,  and 
the  tea  is  ordered  to  be  brought  instanter. 
A|  In  the  mean  time,  the  fire  has  dwindled  to 
the  lowest  bar.  The  mistress  looks  for  coals, 
but  the  usual  receptacle  is  empty.  She  feels 
as  if  there  were  a  conspiracy  against  her. 
There  js — there  can  be  no  one  to  blame  but 
the  servant ;  and  thus  her  chagrin  is  allevi- 
ated by  complaints  against  servants  in  gene- 
ral, and  her  own  in  particular.  With  these 
complaints,  and  often-repeated  apologies,  the 
time  is  occupied  until  the  appearance  of  the 
long-expected  meal,  when  the  guest  is  press- 
ed to  partake  of  a  repast  not  sweetened  by 
the  comments  of  her  hostess,  or  the  harassed 
and  forlorn  appearance  of  an  over-worked 
domestic. 

The  mistress  of  this  house  may  all  the 
while  be  glad  to  see  her  guest,  and  may  really 
regard  her  as  an  intimate  and  valued  friend  ; 
but  never  having  made  it  an  object  to  prac- 
tise the  domestic  virtue  of  making  others 
happy,  she  knows  not  how  to  convey  any 
better  idea  of  a  welcome  than  by  words. 
She,  therefore,  sets  deliberately  to  work  to 
describe  how  happy  she  esteems  herself  in 
receiving  so  dear  a  friend — wishes  some  third 
party  were  at  home — hopes  to  be  able  to 
amuse  her — tells  of  the  parties  she  has  en- 
gaged for  each  successive  evening — brings 
out  a  pile  of  engravings — fears  her  guest  is 
weary — and  lastly,  at  a  very  early  hour,  rings 
for  the  chamber-candlesticks,  presuming  that 
her  visitor  would  like  to  retire. 

It  is  needless  to  observe  that  the  generality 
of  visitors  do  retire  upon  this  hint ;  and  it  is 
equally  needless  to  add,  that  the  individual 
here  described  fails  to  exhibit  the  character 
of  the  true  English  woman,  whose  peculiar 


charm  is  that  of  diffusing  happiness,  without 
ppearing  conspicuously  as  the  agent  in  its 
diffusion.  It  is  from  the  unseen,  but  active 
jrinciple  of  disinterested  love,  ever  working 
at  her  heart,  that  she  enters,  with  a  percep- 
tion as  delicate  as  might  be  supposed  to  be- 
ong  to  a  ministering  angel,  into  the  peculiar 
eelings  and  tones  of  character  influencing 
those  around  her,  applying  the  magical  key 
of  sympathy  to  all  they  suffer  or  enjoy,  to  all 
they  fear  or  hope,  until  she  becomes  identified 
as  it  were  with  their  very  being,  blends  her 
own  existence  with  theirs,  and  makes  her 
society  essential  to  their  highest  earthly  en- 
joyment. 

If  a  heightened  degree  of  earthly  enjoyment 
were  all  we  could  expect  to  obtain,  by  this 
ine  of  conduct,  I  should  still  be  disposed  to 
think  the  effect  produced  would  be  richly 
worth  our  pains.  But  I  must  again  repeat, 
that  the  great  aim  of  a  Christian  woman  will 
always  be,  so  to  make  others  happy,  that 
their  feelings  shall  be  attuned  to  the  recep- 
tion of  better  thoughts  than  those  which  re- 
late to  mere  personal  enjoyment — so  to  make 
others  happy,  as  to  win  them  over  to  a  full 
perception  of  the  loveliness  of  those  Chris- 
tian virtues,  which  her  own  life  and  conduct 
consistently  show  forth. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

DOMESTIC    HABITS — CONSIDERATON  AND   KIND- 
NESS. 

THE  subject  of  consideration  might  be  con- 
tinued to  almost  any  extent,  since  it  seems 
either  to  comprehend,  or  to  be  closely  con- 
nected with,  all  that  is  morally  excellent  in 
woman.  We  shall,  however,  confine  our 
attention  to  only  a  few  more  of  those  import- 
ant branches  in  which  this  fertile  theme  de- 
mands our  serious  thought — towards  those 
who  are  beneath  us  in  pecuniary  circum- 
stances, and  towards  those  with  whom  we 
are  associated  in  the  nearest  domestic  rela- 
tions. 

The  young  and  inexperienced  having  never 


THE  WOMEN  OF  ENGLAND. 


63 


themselves  tasted  the  cup  of  adversity,  are, 
n  a  great  measure,  excusable  for  not  know- 
ing how  to  treat  the  morbid  and  susceptible 
feelings,  which  the  fact  of  having  drank  deep- 
.y  of  that  cup  often  produces ;  nor  is  it  easy 
to  communicate  to  their  minds  any  idea  of 
the  extreme  of  suffering  to  which  this  tone 
of  feeling  may  extend.  Much  may  be  done, 
however,  by  cultivating  habits  of  considera- 
tion, by  endeavoring  sometimes  to  identify 
themselves  with  those  who  suffer,  by  asking 
how  it  would  be  with  them  if  their  parents 
had  fallen  below  what,  by  the  world,  is  called 
respectability — if  they  were  obliged  to  seek 
the  means  of  maintaining  themselves — if  they 
were  admitted  into  families  by  sufferance, 
and  only  on  condition  that  they  should  re- 
main until  another  home  could  be  found,  in 
which  their  own  hands  might  minister  to  their 
necessities. 

There  is  no  class  of  beings  whose  circum- 
stances altogether  are  more  calculated  to  call 
forth  our  tenderest  sympathies,  than  those 
delicate  females  whose  fireside  comforts  are 
broken  up  by  the  adverse  turn  of  their  pecu- 
niary affairs,  and  who  are  consequently  sent 
forth  to  share  the  lot  of  families  unknown  to 
them,  and  to  throw  themselves  upon  the 
kindness  and  consideration  of  strangers.  It 
is  in  cases  of  this  kind,  especially,  that  we  see 
the  importance  of  having  cultivated  the  moral 
faculties,  of  having  instilled  into  the  mind 
those  sound  principles  of  integrity,  useful- 
ness, and  moral  responsibility,  which,  in  pro- 
portion as  they  become  the  foundation  of  our 
familiar  and  daily  conduct,  necessarily  invest 
every  act  of  duty  with  a  cheerfulness  which 
cannot  fail  to  be  acceptable  in  the  sight  of 
that  merciful  Creator,  who  alone  is  capable 
of  transforming  what  is  irksome  or  repulsive 
to  the  natural  feelings,  into  sources  of  grati- 
tude and  delight. 

The  frequent  occurrence  of  such  changes 
in  the  pecuniary  affairs  of  English  familie 
as  render  it  necessary  for  the  female  mem- 
bers to  be  thus  circumstanced  is,  therefore 
one  among  the  many  reasons,  why  the  effects 
of  that  false  refinement  which  is  gradual!) 
increasing  among  the  female  part  of  English 


society,  should  be  counteracted  by  the  strenu- 
ous efforts  of  the  well-wishers  of  their  coun- 
try ;  and  high  time  it  is,  that  all  our  energies 
should  be  roused,  not  by  any  means  to  retard 
the  progress  of  intellect,  but  to  force  along 
with  it  the  growth  of  sound  principles,  and 
the  increase  of  moral  power. 

Persons  who  are  reduced  in  their  pecuniary 
circumstances  are  generally  judged  of  as  we 
judge  our  servants,  and  those  who  are  born 
to  humble  means ;  they  are  required  to  have 
no  faults,  and  the  public  cry  is  especially  di- 
rected against  them,  if  they  evince  the  least 
symptom  of  pride.  Indeed,  so  great  is  our 
abhorrence  of  this  particular  fault,  that  we 
often  make  even  a  slight  evidence  of  its  ex- 
istence a  plea  for  the  discontinuance  of  our 
bounty  and  our  favor.  We  forget  that  the 
pride  of  the  individuals  in  question  has  per- 
haps been  ministered  to  throughout  the  whole 
of  their  former  lives,  and  that  they,  no  more 
than  we,  can  renounce  their  soul-besetting 
sins,  as  they  give  up  the  luxuries  they  are 
no  longer  able  to  procure.  We  forget,  also, 
that  their  circumstances  are  calculated,  in  an 
especial  manner,  to  rouse  the  lurking  evil, 
even  had  it  never  been  conspicuous  in  their 
characters  before. 

The  man  who  floats  safely  upon  the 
stream  of  worldly  prosperity,  with  his  early 
companions  a  little  lower  than  himself*  can 
afford  to  be  gracious  and  conciliating;  but 
when  he  begins  to  sink,  and  feels  the  same 
companions  struggling  to  float  past  him,  and 
finally  leaving  him  to  contend  with  his  diffi- 
culties, his  feelings  towards  them  undergo  a 
total  change :  he  accounts  himself  an  injured 
man,  and  becomes  a  prey  to  envy,  disappoint- 
ment, and  wounded  pride.  The  world's 
contumely,  more  grievous  than  his  actual 
privations,  assails  his  peace  of  mind;  he 
learns  to  look  for  unkindness,  and  to  expect 
it,  even  where  it  does  not  exist  In  the 
stranger's  eye  he  reads  contempt  and  neg- 
lect; he  lives,  as  it  were,  surrounded  by 
daggers — bleeding  at  every  pore,  and  wound- 
ed by  every  thing  with  which  he  comes  in 
contact  "How  absurd!"  is  the  exclama- 
tion we  hear  from  the  prosperous  and  incon- 


64 


DOMESTIC  HABITS  OF 


siderate — "how  worse  than  absurd  for  a 
man  to  be  feeling  in  this  manner,  because  he 
has  tot  a  few  hundreds  !"  And  yet  men  do 
feel  to  such  a-degree,  that  nothing  but  reli- 
gion can  enable  them  to  bear  such  vicissitudes 
with  calmness  and  resignation.  And  even 
when  supported  by  religion,  it  has  pleased 
our  heavenly  Father  to  accompany  these 
dispensations  of  his  providence,  with  a  de- 
gree of  suffering  to  which  no  human  mind 
is  insensible. 

It  is  generally  regarded  as  the  extreme  of 
benevolence,  if,  in  oar  intercourse  with  such 
persons,  we  treat  them  exactly  as  we  did  in 
more  prosperous  days ;  and  few  there  are 
who  can  at  all  times  withhold  expressions 
equivalent  to  these :  "  How  unreasonable  it 
is  to  expect  so  much  attention  now !  It  is 
not  likely  we  can  ask  that  family  to  meet  our 
friends;  we  should  be  willing  still  to  notice 
them  in  a  private  way,  if  they  would  but  be 
more  grateful — more  considerate."  And  thus 
they  are  allowed  to  pass  away  from  our 
social  gathering?1,  to  be  called  upon  perhaps 
occasionally  at  their  own  humble  abodes, 
but  by  no  means  to  be  invited  in  return,  lest 
some  of  our  wealthier  friends  should  detect 
us  in  the  act  of  performing  the  offices  of 
hospitality  to  a  person  in  a  threadbare  coat 
And  yet  this  family  may  have  done  nothing 
worse  than  thousands  are  doing  every  day — 
than  even  our  richest  and  dearest  friends 
are  doing — and  we  may  know  it  all  the 
while. 

It  sickens  the  heart  to  think  of  these 
things,  and  to  reflect  how  far — how  very  far, 
even  the  good  and  the  kind,  fall  short  of  that 
beautiful  and  heart-touching  injunction  of 
our  blessed  Saviour,  "  When  thou  makest  a 
feast,  call  the  poor,  the  maimed,  the  lame, 
the  blind." 

The  wealthy  and  distinguished  man,  with 
whom  we  have  but  a  slight  acquaintance, 
sends  his  son  into  our  neighborhood  on  busi- 
ness or  pleasure.  We  hear  of  his  coming, 
and  persuade  ourselves  it  is  but  respectful 
to  invite  him  to  be  our  guest  It  is  at  the 
expense  of  our  domestic  comfort  that  we 
entertain  him — but  that  is  nothing.  Diffi- 


culties appear  on  every  hand  to  vanish  as 
soon  as  they  appear ;  we  even  persuade 
ourselves  that  a  sort  of  merit  attaches  to  our 
doing  all  in  our  power  to  accommodate  the 
son  of  so  distinguished  a  person. 

The  poor  widow,  perhaps  our  relative, 
sends  her  son  to  town  to  seek  a  situation, 
and  we  hear  of  his  coming.  We  knew  his 
mother  in  more  prosperous  days.  She  was 
a  worthy  woman  then,  but  her  husband  died 
insolvent,  and  the  family  necessarily  fell 
away  from  what  they  had  been.  It  cannot 
be  at  all  incumbent  upon  us  to  ask  such 
young  men  as  these  to  our  houses.  They 
might  come  in  shoals.  Our  domestic  com- 
fort would  be  sacrificed,  and  it  is  the  duty  of 
every  one  to  maintain  the  peace  and  order 
of  their  own  household. 

Thus  the  widow's  son  is  allowed  to  wan- 
der up  and  down  the  streets,  to  resort  to 
expensive  lodging-houses,  and  to  purchase, 
with  the  pittance  provided  by  his  mother 
from  her  slender  means,  that  accommodation 
which  a  little  Christian  hospitality  might 
have  spared  him. 

We  complain  that  our  streets  are  thronged 
on  the  Sabbath-day  with  troops  of  idle  young 
men  and  women,  who  afford  a  painful  spec- 
tacle to  those  who  pass  them  on  their  way  to; 
public  worship.  How  many  of  these — ap- 
prentices, and  assistants  in  business — are 
actually  driven  into  the  streets  from  very 
want  of  any  thing  like  a  hospitable  or  social 
home ! 

I  am  by  no  means  prepared  to  say,  how 
far  true  Christian  benevolence,  acted  out 
towards  this  class  of  the  community,  would; 
lead  us  to  give  up  our  domestic  comfort  for 
their  sakes,  and  for  the  sake  of  preserving 
them  from  harm;  but  I  do  know  it  would 
lead  us  to  adopt  a  very  different  treatment 
of  them,  from  that  which  generally  prevails ; 
and  I  consider  also,  that  these  duties  rest 
especially  with  women. 

It  is  not  easy  for  a  man  who  has  to  fill  the 
office  of  master  to  a  number  of  apprentices 
and  assistants  during  the  hours  of  business, 
to  unbend  before  them  at  his  own  fireside. 
But  a  considerate  and  high-principled  wo- 


THE  WOMEN  OF  ENGLAND. 


65 


man,  may,  without  loss  of  dignity,  and  cer- 
tainly without  loss  of  respect,  make  them 
feel  that  she  regards  it  as  her  duty  to  be 
their  friend  as  well  as  their  mistress,  and 
that  she  looks  upon  herself  as  under  a  sa- 
cred obligation  to  advise  them  in  difficulties, 
to  guard  their  welfare,  and  promote  their 
comfort,  simply  because  the  all-wise  Disposer 
of  human  affairs  has  seen  meet  to  place 
them  within  the  sphere  of  her  influence. 

I  have  devoted  a  chapter  to  the  influence 
of  English  women.  Many  chapters  might 
be  filled  with  the  duties  of  tradesmen's 
wives  towards  the  young  people  employed 
in  their  husbands'  affairs,  and  the  responsi- 
bility attaching  to  them,  for  the  tone  of  moral 
character  which  such  persons  exhibit  through 
the  whole  of  their  after  lives.  Of  how  little 
value,  in  this  point  of  view,  is  the  immense 
variety  of  accomplishments  generally  ac- 
quired at  school,  compared  with  the  discrimi- 
nation and  tact  that  would  enable  a  woman 
to  extend  her  influence  among  the  class  of 
persons  here  described,  and  the  principle  that 
would  lead  her  to  turn  such  influence  to  the 
best  account !  How  many  a  mother's  heart 
would  be  made  glad  by  finding,  when  her 
son  returned  to  his  home,  that  he  had  expe- 
rienced something  of  a  mother's  kindness 
from  his  master's  wife ;  and  how  many  a 
father  would  rejoice  that  his  child  had  been 
preserved  from  the  temptations  of  a  city  life, 
by  the  good  feeling  that  was  cherished  and 
kept  alive  at  his  master's  fireside  ! 

It  is  for  circumstances  such  as  these,  that 
a  large  proportion  of  the  young  women  of 
England,  now  undergoing  the  process  of 
education,  have  to  prepare.  Not  to  imitate 
the  heroines  they  read  of;  but  to  plunge  into 
the  actual  cares,  and  duties,  and  responsi- 
bilities of  every-day  existence.  They  will 
probably  have  little  time  either  for  drawing 
or  music,  may  seldom  be  spoken  to  in  a  for- 
eign tongue,  and  hardly  have  any  opportuni- 
ty of  displaying  half  the  amount  of  verbal 
knowledge  with  which  their  memories  have 
been  stored.  But  they  wTill,  if  they  are  at  all 
intent  upon  fulfilling  the  great  end  of  their 
existence,  have  to  bethink  themselves  every 


hour,  what  is  best  to  be  done  for  the  good 
and  the  happiness  of  those  around  them. 
For  this  great  and  laudable  purpose,  it  is  of 
the  highest  importance  that  they  should  cul- 
tivate habits  of  consideration ;  for  how  else 
can  they  expect  to  enter  into  the  states  of 
mind,  and  modes  of  feeling  of  those  with 
whom  they  associate,  so  as  to  render  the 
means  they  use  effectual  to  the  end  desired! 

It  happens  to  almost  all  families,  in  the 
middle  rank  of  life  in  England,  that  they  are 
directly  or  remotely  connected  with  relatives 
whose  pecuniary  means  are  much  more  lim- 
ited than  their  own.  To  these,  as  well  as  to 
persons  of  recently  decayed  fortune,  it  is 
generally  thought  highly  meritorious  to  ex- 
tend the  common  courtesies  of  society.  It 
implies  no  disrespect  to  this  class  of  individ- 
uals, to  call  them  poor  relations ;  since  the 
poor  are  often  brought  into  a  state  of  whole- 
some discipline,  which  eventually  places  them 
higher  than  the  rich  in  the  scale  of  moral 
worth.  The  poor  relation  may  possibly  have 
known  in  very  early  life  what  it  was  to  enjoy 
all  the  comforts  that  ample  means  afford ; 
but  she  becomes  at  last  a  sort  of  useful  ap- 
pendage to  an  uncle's  or  a  brother's  family, 
or  is  invited  by  her  cousins  whenever  they 
happen  to  be  in  arrears  with  their  plain- work 
— when  one  of  the  family  wants  nursing 
through  a  tedious  illness — or  when  they  are 
going  abroad,  and  require  some  one  to  over- 
look the  household  in  their  absence. 

The  poor  relation,  in  the  first  place,  is 
shown  up  stairs  into  a  kind  of  tolerable  attic, 
where  the  walls  are  white-washed,  and  where 
a  little  bed  with  blue-check  curtains  is  pre- 
pared for  her  accommodation.  They  hope 
she  will  not  mind  sleeping  in  the  attic — in- 
deed they  are  sure  she  will  not,  she  is  such  a 
dear  good  creature ;  besides,  they  all  like  the 
attic  for  the  view  it  commands,  and  mamma 
says  it  is  the  most  comfortable  room  in  the 
house :  yet,  somehow  or  other,  the  young 
ladies  never  sleep  in  the  attic  themselves; 
and  considering  it  is  the  most  desirable  room 
in  the  house,  and  commands  so  excellent  a 
view,  it  is  astonishingly  seldom  occupied. 

The  poor  relation  is  then  introduced  to 


DOMESTIC  HABITS  OF 


company  without  a  name — is  spoken  of  as 
the  person  staying  at  Mrs.  So  and  So's ;  and, 
alter  being  told  that  she  need  not  sit  longer 
than  is  agreeable  to  her  after  meals,  is  fairly 
installed  into  office  by  being  informed,  that 
the  south  chamber  is  very  warm  without  a 
fire,  and  has  a  good  light  too,  so  that  she  can 
see  an  hour  longer  there  than  in  any  other. 
Here  the  different  members  of  the  family 
bring  their  work  for  her  to  do,  looking  round 
every  time  they  enter,  with  a  hope  that  she 
does  not  feel  cold.  From  the  young  lady  of 
twenty  years,  to  the  child  of  three,  a  demand 
is  made  upon  her  for  the  supply  of  all  absent 
buttons,  and  all  broken  strings.  All  the  stock- 
ings hoarded  up  against  her  coming  are 
brought  to  her  to  be  darned — all  borders  to 
quill — all  linen  to  be  mended :  and  this  inun- 
dation of  work  is  the  natural  consequence  of 
her  having  shown  symptoms  of  a  desire  to 
be  generally  agreeable  ;  but  if  no  such  desire 
has  been  exhibited,  wo  betide  the  poor  rela- 
tion who  proposes  a  visit  to  a  rich  one,  where 
kindly  feeling  and  habits  of  consideration  have 
never  been  cultivated. 

I  remember  it  was  very  startling  to  me  in 
my  youth,  and  appeared  to  me  at  that  time 
a  contradiction  in  human  nature,  that,  while 
people  had  comfortable  homes,  and  were  sur- 
rounded by  every  thing  that  could  minister 
to  enjoyment,  they  were  often  invited  out  to 
partake  of  the  enjoyments  of  their  friends, 
and  so  pressed  to  prolong  such  visits,  that  it 
seemed  as  if  their  friends  could  never  be 
weary  of  their  society.  But,  let  the  same  in- 
dividuals hare  no  home,  let  them  be  placed 
in  circumstances  calculated  to  render  an  in- 
vitation peculiarly  acceptable,  and  it  was  with 
difficulty  obtained,  or  not  obtained  at  all. 
Though  in  all  respects  as  agreeable  as  in 
former  days,  they  were  not  pressed  to  stay 
beyond  a  very  limited  period ;  and  some  who 
had  been  the  most  solicitous  to  enjoy  the  fa- 
vor of  their  company,  suddenly  found  their 
accommodations  eo  exceedingly  small,  that 
they  could  not  invite  any  guest  to  partake  of 
their  hospitality. 

But  these,  my  sisters,  are  disgraceful  ways, 
for  woman — warm-hearted,  generous,  noble- 


minded  woman,  to  fall  into.  From  men  we 
expect  not  all  those  little  niceties  of  behavior 
and  feeling  that  would  tend"  to  heal  the 
wounds  of  adversity.  Their  necessary  pur- 
suits deprive  them  of  many  opportunities  of 
making  the  unfortunate  and  afflicted  feel, 
that  amidst  the  wreck  of  their  worldly  hopes, 
they  have  at  least  retained  some  moral  dig- 
nity in  the  estimation  of  their  friends ;  but 
from  woman  we  do  look  for  some  redeeming 
charities,  some  tenderness  of  heart  among 
the  sordid  avocations  and  selfish  pursuits  of 
this  life  ;  and  never  do  they  rise  to  such  true 
eminence,  as  when  they  bestow  these  chari- 
ties, and  apply  this  tenderness  to  the  broken 
in  spirit,  the  neglected,  and  the  desolate,  who 
are  incapable  of  rendering  them  any  return. 

Harassed  by  the  cares  and  perplexities  of 
a  sordid  world,  and  disappointed  in  the  high 
promise  of  our  early  youth ;  neglected,  per- 
haps despised  where  we  had  hoped  to  find 
protection  and  support  in  the  hour  of  trial ; 
driven  out  from  the  temples  of  our  soul's  idol- 
atry, it  is  to  woman  that  we  look  for  the  man- 
tle of  charity,  to  cast  over  the  blighted  bosom 
— for  the  drop  of  sweetness  to  mingle  with 
our  bitter  cup.  We  stretch  our  eyes  over  the 
wide  tumultuous  ocean  of  life,  for  some  spot 
on  which  our  ark  may  rest  We  send  forth 
the  raven,  and  it  returns  not ;  but  the  gentler 
dove  comes  back  with  the  olive-branch,  and 
we  hail  it  as  a  harbinger  of  safety  and  peace. 

Although  it  must  be  confessed  that  women 
are  sometimes  too  negligent  of  the  tender 
offices  of  kindness  towards  those  who  have 
no  immediate  claim  upon  their  affections, 
there  remains  some  excuse  for  this  particular 
species  of  culpability,  in  the  general  usages 
of  society ;  and  in  the  example  of  discreet 
and  prudent  persons,  who  deem  it  ureafe  to 
deviate  in  any  conspicuous  manner  from  the 
beaten  track  of  custom.  No  excuse,  how- 
ever, can  be  found  for  those  who  permit  the 
closer  ties  of  relationship  to  exist,  without 
endeavoring  to  weave  into  the  same  bond,  all 
the  tender  sympathies  of  which  the  human 
heart  is  capable. 

Brothers  and  sisters  are  so  associated  in 
English  homes,  as  materially  to  promote  each 


THE  WOMEN  OF  ENGLAND. 


67 


other's  happiness,  by  the  habits  of  kindness 
and  consideration  which  they  cultivate  ;  and 
when  a  strong  friendship  can  be  formed  be- 
tween such  parties,  it  is  perhaps  one  of  the 
most  faithful  and  disinterested  of  any  which 
the  aspect  of  human  life  presents.  A  young 
man  of  kind  and  social  feelings  is  often  glad 
to  find  in  his  sister,  a  substitute  for  what  he 
afterwards  ensures  more  permanently  in  a 
wife ;  and  young  women  are  not  backward 
in  returning  this  affection  by  a  love  as  con- 
fiding, and  almost  as  tender  as  they  are  capa- 
ble of  feeling.  Their  intercourse  has  also  the 
endearing  charm  of  early  association,  which 
no  later-formed  acquaintance  can  supply. 
They  have  shared  the  sunny  hours  of  child- 
hood together ;  and  when  the  young  man 
goes  forth  into  the  world,  the  love  of  his  sis- 
ter is  like  a  talisman  about  his  heart.  Wo- 
man, however,  must  be  watchful  and  studi- 
ous to  establish  this  intimate  connection,  and 
to  keep  entire  the  golden  cord  by  which  they 
are  thus  bound.  Affection  does  not  come  by 
relationship  alone ;  and  never  yet  was  the 
affection  of  man  fully  and  lastingly  engaged 
by  woman,  without  some  means  being  adopt- 
ed on  her  part  to  increase  or  preserve  his 
happiness.  The  childish  and  most  unsatis- 
factory fondness  that  means  nothing  but  "I 
love  you,"  goes  but  a  little  way  to  reach  the 
heart  of  man ;  but  let  his  home  be  made 
more  comfortable,  let  his  peculiarities  of  habit 
and  temper  be  studiously  consulted,  and  so- 
cial and  familiar  gratifications  provided  for 
his  daily  use ;  and,  unless  he  is  ungrateful 
beyond  the  common  average  of  mankind,  he 
will  be  sure  to  regard  the  source  from  whence 
his  comforts  flow  with  extreme  complacency, 
and  not  unfrequently  with  affection. 

On  the  other  hand,  let  the  sister  possess  all 
that  ardor  of  attachment  which  young  ladies 
are  apt  to  believe  they  feel,  let  her  hang 
about  his  neck  at  parting,  and  bathe  his 
face  with  her  tears ;  if  she  has  not  taken  the 
trouble  to  rise  and  prepare  his  early  meal, 
but  has  allowed  him  to  depend  upon  the 
servant,  or  to  prepare  it  for  himself;  it  is 
very  questionable  whether  that  brother  could 
be  made  to  believe  in  her  affection  ;  and  cer- 


tainly he  would  be  far  from  feeling  its  value. 
If,  again,  they  read  some  interesting  volume 
together,  if  she  lends  her  willing  sympathy, 
and  blends  her  feelings  with  his,  entering  in- 
to all  the  trains  of  thought  and  recollection 
which  two  congenial  minds  are  capable  of 
awakening  in  each  other;  and  if,  after  the 
book  is  closed,  he  goes  up  into  his  chamber 
late  on  the  Saturday  night,  and  finds  his  lin- 
en unaired,  buttonless,  and  unattended  to, 
with  the  gloves  he  had  ten  times  asked  to 
have  mended,  remaining  untouched,  where 
he  had  left  them  ;  he  soon  loses  the  impres- 
sion of  the  social  hour  he  had  been  spending, 
and  wishes,  that,  instead  of  an  idle  sister,  he 
had  a  faithful  and  industrious  wife.  He  rea- 
sons, and  reasons  rightly,  that  while  his  sister 
is  willing  to  share  with  him  all  that  is  most 
agreeable  to  herself,  she  is  by  no  means  will- 
ing to  do  for  his  sake  what  is  not  agreeable, 
and  he  concludes  his  argument  with  the  con- 
viction, that  notwithstanding  her  professions, 
hers  is  not  true  affection. 

I  do  not  mean  that  sisters  ought  to  be  the 
servants  of  their  brothers,  or  that  they  should 
not,  where  domestics  abound,  leave  the  prac- 
tical part  of  these  duties  to  them.  All  that 
is  wanted  is  stronger  evidence  of  their 
watchfulness  and  their  solicitude  for  their 
brothers'  real  comfort.  The  manner  in  which 
this  evidence  shall  be  given,  must  still  be  left 
to  their  judgment,  and  their  circumstances. 
There  are,  however,  a  few  simple  rules,  by 
which  I  should  suppose  all  kindly  affectioned 
women  would  be  willing  to  be  guided.  No 
woman  in  the  enjoyment  of  health  should 
allow  her  brother  to  prepare  his  own  meals 
at  any  time  of  the  day,  if  it  were  possible  for 
her  to  do  it  for  him.  No  woman  should  al- 
low her  brother  to  put  on  linen  in  a  state  of 
dilapidation,  to  wear  gloves  or  stockings  in 
want  of  mending,  or  to  return  home  without 
finding  a  neat  parlor,  a  place  to  sit  down 
without  asking  for  it,  and  a  cheerful  invita- 
tion to  partake  of  necessary  refreshment. 

All  this  I  believe  is  often  faithfully  done, 
where  the  brother  is  a  gentlemanly,  attract- 
ive, and  prepossessing  person — in  short,  a 
person  to  be  proud  of  in  company,  and 


DOMESTIC  HABITS  OF 


pleased  with  in  private ;  but  a  brother  is  a 
brother  still,  even  where  these  attractions  do 
not  exist ;  where  the  duty  is  most  irksome, 
the  moral  responsibility  is  precisely  the  same 
as  where  it  is  most  pleasing.  Besides,  who 
knows  what  female  influence  may  not  effect? 
It  is  scarcely  probable  that  a  younger  brother, 
treated  by  his  sisters  with  perpetual  con- 
tempt,  almost  bordering  upon  disgust,  re- 
garded as  an  intolerable  bore,  and  got  rid  of 
by  every  practicable  means,  will  grow  up  in- 
to a  companionable,  interesting,  and  social 
man ;  or  if  he  should,  he  would  certainly  re- 
serve these  qualities  for  exercise,  beyond  the 
circle  of  his  own  fireside,  and  for  the  benefit 
of  those  who  could  appreciate  him  better 
than  his  sisters. 

The  virtue  of  consideration,  in  the  inter- 
course of  sisters  with  brothers,  is  never  more 
felt  than  in  the  sacred  duty  of  warning  them 
of  moral  evil,  and  encouraging  them  in  moral 
good.  Here  we  see  in  an  especial  manner 
the  advantages  arising  from  habits  of  per- 
sonal attention  and  kindness.  A  woman 
who  stands  aloof  from  the  common  offices  of 
domestic  usefulness,  may  very  properly  ex- 
tend her  advice  to  a  husband,  a  brother,  or  a 
son  ;  but  when  she  has  faithfully  pointed  out 
the  fault  she  would  correct,  she  must  leave 
the  object  of  her  solicitude,  with  his  wounded 
self-love  unhealed,  and  his  irritated  feelings 
unrelieved.  She  has  done  her  duty,  and  the 
impression  most  frequently  remaining  upon 
the  mind  of  the  other  party  is,  either  that  she 
has  done  it  in  anger,  or  that  it  is  impossible 
nhe  can  love  a  being  of  whom  she  entertains 
such  hard  thoughts. 

The  sister,  who  is  accustomed  to  employ 
her  hands  in  the  services  of  domestic  life,  is, 
on  these  occasions,  rich  in  resources.  She 
feels  the  pain  she  has  been  compelled  to  give, 
and  calculates  how  much  she  has  to  make 
up.  It  is  a  time  for  tenfold  .effort ;  but  it 
must  be  effort  without  display.  In  a  gentle 
and  unobtrusive  manner,  she  does  some  ex- 
tra service  for  her  brother,  choosing  what 
would  otherwise  be  degrading  in  its  own  na- 
ture, in  order  to  prove  in  the  most  delicate 
manner,  that  though  she  can  see  a  fault  in 


him,  she  still  esteems  herself  his  inferior,  and 
though  she  is  cruel  enough  to  point  it  out, 
her  love  is  yet  so  deep  and  pure  as  to  sweet- 
en every  service  she  can  render  him. 

It  is  impossible  for  the  human  heart  to  re- 
sist this  kind  of  evidence,  and  hence  arises 
the  strong  influence  that  women  possess 
over  the  moral  feelings  of  those  with  whom 
they  are  intimately  associated. 

If  such,  then,  be  the  effect  of  kindness  and 
consideration  upon  the  heart  of  man,  what 
must  we  expect  when  it  operates  in  all  its 
force  and  all  its  sweetness  upon  that  of  wo- 
man. In  her  intercourse  with  man,  it  is  im- 
possible but  that  woman  should  feel  her  own 
inferiority ;  and  it  is  right  that  it  should  be 
so.  Yet,  feeling  this,  it  is  also  impossible  but 
that  the  weight  of  social  and  moral  duties 
she  is  called  upon  to  perform,  must,  to  an 
unsanctified  spirit,  at  times  appear  oppres- 
sive. She  has  innumerable  sources  of  dis- 
quietude, too,  in  which  no  man  can  partake  ; 
and  from  the  very  weakness  and  suscepti- 
bility of  her  own  nature,  she  has  need  of 
sympathies  which  it  would  be  impossible  for 
him  to  render.  She  does  not  meet  him 
upon  equal  terms.  Her  part  is  to  make  sac- 
rifices, in  order  that  his  enjoyment  may  be 
enhanced.  She  does  this  with  a  willing 
spirit ;  but  from  error  of  judgment,  or  want 
of  consideration,  she  does  it  so  often  without 
producing  any  adequate  result,  and  so  often 
without  grateful  acknowledgment,  that  her 
spirit  sometimes  sinks  within  her,  and  she 
shrinks  back  from  the  cares  and  anxieties  of 
every  day,  with  a  feeling  that  the  burden  of 
life  is  too  heavy  to  be  borne. 

Nor  is  the  man  to  be  blamed  for  this.  He 
knows  not  half  the  foolish  fears  that  agitate 
her  breast  He  could  not  be  made  to  know, 
still  less  to  understand,  the  intensity  of  her 
capability  of,  suffering,  from  slight,  and  what 
to  him  would  appear  inadequate  causes. 
But  women  do  know  what  their  sex  is  formed 
to  suffer ;  and  for  this  very  reason,  there  is 
sometimes  a  bond  existing  between  sisters, 
the  most  endearing,  the  most  pure  and  disin- 
terested of  any  description  of  affection  which 
this  world  affords. 


THE  WOMEN  OF  ENGLAND. 


69 


I  am  the  more  inclined  to  think  that  the 
strength  of  this  bond  arises  chiefly  out  of 
their  mutual  knowledge  of  each  other's  ca- 
pability of  receiving  pain  ;  because,  in  fami- 
lies whose  circumstances  are  uniformly  easy, 
and  who  have  never  known  the  visitation  of 
any  deep  affliction,  we  often  see  the  painful 
spectacle  of  sisters  forming  obstacles  to  each 
other  in  their  progress  both  to  temporal  and 
eternal  happiness.  They  seem  to  think  the 
hey-day  of  life  so  unlikely  to  be  clouded, 
that  they  can  afford,  wantonly  and  perversely, 
to  intercept  the  sunshine  that  would  other- 
wise fall  upon  each  other's  path  ;  or  to  cal- 
culate so  confidently  upon  the  continued 
smoothness  of  the  stream  of  time,  that  they 
sportively  drive  each  other  upon  the  rocks 
and  the  quicksands,  which,  even  in  the  glad 
season  of  youth,  will  occasionally  appear ; 
while  the  very  fact  of  knowing  each  other's 
weak  points  of  character,  while  it  ought  to 
excite  their  utmost  tenderness,  only  affords 
them  subjects  for  tormenting  sarcasm,  and 
biting  scorn. 

I  have  heard  of  hackney-coachmen  in  a 
certain  highly  civilized  metropolis,  who  adopt 
the  cruel  practice  of  lashing  a  galled  or 
wounded  part,  if  they  can  find  one  in  the 
wretched  animals  they  drive ;  but  I  hardly 
think  the  practice,  abhorrent  as  it  is,  de- 
mands our  condemnation  more  than  that  of 
the  women  who  are  thus  false  and  cruel  to 
each  other — who,  because  they  know  exactly 
where  to  wound,  apply  the  instrument  of  tor- 
ture to  the  mind,  unsparingly,  and  with  the 
worst  effect. 

Let  us  glance  hastily  over  the  humiliating 
supposition  that  such  a  propensity  does  ac- 
tually exist  among  women.  Let  us  glance 
hastily,  too,  over  the  long  train  of  minute  and 
irremediable  evils  which  the  exercise  of  such 
a  propensity  is  calculated  to  produce — the 
wounded  feeling,  the  imagined  injury,  the 
suspicious  dread,  the  bitter  retort,  and  the 
secretly-cherished  revenge.  It  is  not  enough 
for  those  who  practise  such  habits  to  say,  "  I 
mean  no  harm  :  I  love  my  sister,  and  would 
do  her  any  signal  service  in  my  power." 
Opportunities  of  performing  signal  services 


do  not  often  fall  in  our  way ;  but  while  we 
wait  for  these,  we  have  opportunities  innu- 
merable of  soothing  or  irritating  the  feelings 
of  others,  as  our  own  dispositions  prompt — 
of  repelling  or  attacking— of  weaning  affec- 
tion, or  of  inspiring  confidence  ;  and  these 
ends  are  easily  obtained,  by  the  manner  in 
which  we  conduct  ourselves  towards  those 
whom  Providence  has  placed  immediately 
around  us. 

So  many  young  women,  however,  escape 
the  censure  here  implied,  by  their  self-com- 
placency on  the  score  of  general  kindness, 
that  it  may,  perhaps,  be  as  well  to  speak 
more  explicitly  on  this  important  subject.  It 
is  not,  then,  to  direct  unkindness  that  I  refer, 
but  to  that  general  absence  of  kind  consider- 
ation, which  produces  the  same  effect.  Per- 
haps one  sister  is  unreasonably  elated  at  the 
success  of  some  of  her  plans :  and  in  the 
midst  of  her  ecstatic  joy  she  finds  herself 
mimicked  with  all  the  air  of  ineffable  con- 
tempt, by  another.  Perhaps  one  sister  is 
rather  unusually  depressed  in  spirits  from 
some  incommunicable  cause  :  the  others  pre- 
tend to  weep,  and  make  her  gravity  the  sub- 
ject of  their  merriment  Perhaps,  in  a  mo- 
ment of  extreme  embarrassment,  she  has 
committed  some  breach  of  good  breeding,  or 
looked  awkward,  or  spoken  foolishly :  she 
finds  afterwards  that  watchful  eyes  have  been 
upon  her,  and  that  her  every  tone  and  move- 
ment have  been  the  subject  of  ridicule  in  a  little 
coterie  of  her  sisters  and  her  friends.  Above 
all,  perhaps  she  has  gone  a  little  too  far  in 
meeting  the  attentions  of  the  other  sex,  and 
a  merciless  outcry  is  raised  against  her,  with 
her  sisters  at  its  head. 

Besides  all  this,  there  are  often  the  strong 
wills  of  both  parties  set  in  opposition  to  each 
other,  with  a  pertinacity  that  time  itself  is 
unable  to  subdue.  For  if,  from  the  necessity 
of  circumstances,  one  sister  has  on  one  occa- 
sion been  compelled  to  give  way,  she  is  only 
fortified  with  fresh  resolution  for  the  next 
point  of  dispute,  that  she  may  enjoy  her  turn 
of  victory  and  triumph.  These  disputes  are 
often  about  the  merest  trifles  in  the  world, 
things  so  entirely  worthless  and  unimportant 


DOMESTIC  HABITS  OF 


in  themselves,  that  to  find  they  have  been 
the  cause  of  angry  words  or  bitter  feelings, 
I  may  well  excite  our  astonishment,  at  the 
same  time  that  it  ought  to  teach  us  fresh 
lessons  of  distrust  of  ourselves,  of  humility, 
and  watchful  care. 

It  is  in  this  manner  that  sisters  will  some- 
times embitter  their  early  days,  and  make 
what  ought  to  be  the  bower  of  repose,  a  scene 
of  rivalry  and  strife.  But  let  us  change  this 
harsh  picture,  and  turn  to  the  sunnier  hours 
of  youthful  love,  when  sisters  who  have 
shared  one  home  in  childhood,  then  separa- 
ted by  adverse  circumstances,  return,  after 
the  lapse  of  years,  to  enjoy  a  few  brief  days 
of  heart-communings  beneath  the  same  roof 
again.  How  lovely  then  are  the  morning 
hours,  when  they  rise  with  the  sun  to  length- 
en out  the  day !  They  seat  themselves  in 
the  old  window,  where  their  little  childish 
bands  were  wont  to  pluck  the  tendrils  of  the 
rambling  vine.  They  look  out  upon  the 
lawn,  and  it  is  arrayed  in  the  same  green  as 
when  they  gambolled  there.  The  summer- 
apple  tree,  from  whence  they  shook  the  rosy 
fruit,  has  moss  upon  its  boughs;  and  the 
spreading  ash  reminds  them  they  are  no 
longer  able  to  climb  its  topmost  branch. 
What  vicissitudes  have  they  known — what 
change  of  place  and  circumstance  have  they 
experienced — since  they  planted  the  small 
osier  that  now  stands  a  stately  willow  by  the 
stream !  We  will  not  ask  what  cruel  neces- 
sity first  drove  them  separately  from  this 
peaceful  abode — what  blight  fell  on  their 
prospects — what  ruin  on  their  hopes.  Are 
they  not  sisters  unchanged  in  their  affec- 
tion 1 — and  in  this  very  consciousness  they 
have  a  world  of  wealth.  Where  is  the  keen, 
contemptuous  gaze  of  satire  now  1  Where 
are  the  bickerings,  the  envyings,  the  words 
of  provocation  1  They  would  esteem  it  sac- 
rilege to  profane  that  place  and  hour  with 
other  thoughts  than  those  of  kindness.  The 
mote  and  the  beam  have  vanished  from  their 
eyes;  they  know  each  other's  faults,  but 
they  behold  them  only  to  pity  and  forgive,  or 
speak  of  them  only  to  correct  Each  heart 
is  laid  bare  before  the  others,  and  the  oil  and 


wine  are  poured  in  to  heal  the  wounds  which 
the  stranger  has  made.  Each  has  her  own 
store  of  painful  experience  to  unfold ;  and 
she  weeps  to  find  her  sister's  greater  than 
her  own.  Each  has  had  her  share  of  insult, 
coldness,  and  neglect ;  and  she  is  roused  to 
indignation  by  hearing  that  her  sister  has  had 
the  same.  Self  becomes  as  nothing  in  com- 
parison with  the  intense  interest  excited  by  a 
sister's  experience ;  and  as  the  secret  anxie- 
ties of  each  bosom  are  revealed,  fresh  floods 
of  tenderness  are  called  forth,  and  the  early 
bond  of  childhood,  strengthened  by  vicissi- 
tudes and  matured  by  time,  is  woven  yet 
more  closely  around  the  hearts  of  all.  Thus 
they  go  forth  into  the  world  again,  strong  in 
the  confidence  of  that  unshaken  love  which 
formed  the  sunshine  of  their  childhood,  and 
is  now  the  solace  of  their  riper  years.  They 
may  weep  the  tears  of  the  alien  in  the  stran- 
ger's home,  but  they  look  forward  to  the 
summer-days  of  heart-warm  confidence,  when 
they  shall  meet  again  with  the  loveliest  and 
the  most  beloved  of  all  earth's  treasures,  and 
the  wintry  hours  pass  over  them  bereft  of 
half  their  power  to  blight 

If  such  be  the  experience,  and  such  the 
enjoyments  of  sisters  separated  by  affliction, 
what  must  be  the  privileged  lot  of  those, 
who,  without  any  change  of  fortune,  any  fall- 
ing off  from  the  golden  promise  of  early  life, 
or  any  heart-rending  bereavement,  learn  the 
happy  art  of  finding  their  enjoyment  in  each 
other,  by  studying  what  will  make  each  other 
happy!  There  may  be  faithful  friendships 
formed  in  after  years  ;  but  where  a  sister  is 
a  sister's  friend,  there  can  be  none  so  tender, 
and  none  so  true.  For  a  brother,  she  may 
possibly  entertain  a  more  romantic  attach, 
ment,  because  the  difference  in  their  circum- 
stances may  afford  more  to  interest  their 
feelings ;  but  there  is  one  universal  point  of 
failure  in  the  friendship  that  exists  between 
brothers  and  sisters — when  a  man  marries, 
he  finds  in  his  wife  all  that  he  valued  in  his 
sister,  with  a  more  endearing  sense  of  cer- 
tainty in  its  possession  ;  and  when  a  woman 
marries,  she  finds  all  that  she  needed  in  the 
way  of  friendship  and  protection,  with  more 


THE  WOMEN  OF  ENGLAND. 


71 


of  tenderness,  of  interest,  and  identity,  than 
it  was  possible  for  her  to  experience  in  the 
affection  of  her  brother.  Hence  there  arises, 
even  in  the  uncalculating  breast  of  youth,  a 
suspicion  that  this  friendship  cannot  last : 
and  the  breaking  up  of  those  establishments 
in  which  the  sister  has  regulated  the  domes- 
tic affairs  of  her  brother,  is  often  a  melancholy 
proof  that  the  termination  of  their  intimacy 
ought  to  have  been  calculated  upon  with 
more  certainty  than  it  generally  is. 

With  sisters  the  case  is  widely  different. 
They  may  seek  in  vain,  through  all  the  high 
and  noble  attributes  of  man,  for  that  which 
is  to  be  found  alone  in  the  true  heart  of  wo- 
man ;  and,  weak  themselves,  susceptible,  de- 
pendent, and  holding  their  happiness  as  it 
were  with  a  sword  suspended  above  their 
heads,  they  have  need  to  be  faithful  to  each 
other. 

No  friend  in  after  life  can  know  so  well  as 
a  sister  what  is  the  peculiar  and  natural  bias 
of  the  character.  Education  may  change  the 
manners,  and  circumstances  may  call  new 
faculties  to  light ;  but  the  old  leaven  remains 
at  the  heart's  core,  and  a  sister  knows  it  well. 

Women  often  share  with  other  friends  en- 
joyments in  which  their  sisters  take  no  part ; 
but  they  have  not  roamed  together  over  that 
garden  whose  very  weeds  are  lovely — the 
fertile  and  luxuriant  garden  of  childhood ; 
they  have  not  drank  together  at  that  foun- 
tain whose  bubbling  waters  are  ever  bright 
and  pure — the  early  fountain  of  domestic  joy ; 
and  the  absence  of  this  one  charm  in  their 
friendship,  must  necessarily  shut  them  out 
from  participation  in  a  world  of  associations, 
more  dear,  more  beautiful,  and  more  endur- 
ing than  the  longest  after  life  can  supply.  I 
know  not  how  it  is  with  others,  but  it  seems 
to  me,  that  there  never  is — there  never  can 
be,  amusement  so  original,  so  piquant,  and  so 
fraught  with  glee,  as  that  which  is  enjoyed 
among  happy  sisters  at  their  own  fireside, 
or  in  their  chamber,  where  one  hardly  would 
deny  them  all  their  idle  hours  of  laughter 
and  delight.  The  very  circumstances  which 
to  one  alone  would  have  been  a  burden  of 
heavy  care,  when  participated  in,  are  nothing; 


and  the  mere  fact  of  talking  over  all  their 
daily  trials,  sets  every  bosom  free  to  beat  and 
bound  with  a  new  life. 

We  must  not  however  forget,  it  is  in  sea- 
sons of  affliction  that  we  prove  the  real  value 
of  the  deep  well-spring  of  a  sister's  love. 
Other  hands,  and  hands  perhaps  as  skilful, 
may  smooth  our  couch  in  sickness.  Other 
voices  may  speak  words^of  kindness  in  our 
hour  of  need,  and  other  eyes  may  beam  upon 
us  with  tenderness  and  love ;  but  can  they 
ever  be  like  the  hands  that  joined  with  ours 
in  twining  the  rosy  wreaths  of  infancy — the 
voices  that  spoke  sweetly  to  us  in  the  tones 
of  childhood — the  eyes  that  gazed  with  ours, 
in  all  the  wonder  of  first  dawning  thought, 
abroad  upon  the  beautiful  creation,  over  the 
earth  and  sea,  the  green  hills,  and  the  waving 
woods,  and  up  to  the  starry  heavens,  that 
page  of  glory  too  bright  for  human  eye  to 
read? 

No ;  there  is  something  in  the  home-fel- 
lowship of  early  life,  that  we  cannot,  if  we 
would,  shake  off  in  the  days  of  darkness  and 
distress,  when  sickness  clouds  the  brow,  and 
grief  sits  heavily  upon  the  heart.  It  is  then 
that  we  pine  for  the  faithful  hand,  the  voice 
that  was  an  echo  to  our  own,  and  the  kin- 
dred countenance  so  familiar  in  our  childhood ; 
and  sisters  who  are  kindly  affectioned  one 
towards  another,  are  not  slow  to  answer  this 
appeal  of  nature.  Tender  and  delicate  wo- 
men are  not  backward  to  make  sacrifices  in 
such  a  cause.  They  will  hasten  upon  diffi- 
cult and  dangerous  journeys,  without  feeling 
the  perils  they  undergo.  The  anticipated 
accidents  of  time  and  chance  have  no  weight 
with  them,  for  self  is  annihilated  by  the  over- 
whelming power  of  their  affection.  Obsta- 
cles cannot  hinder,  nor  persuasion  retard 
their  purpose :  a  sister  suffers,  and  they  es- 
teem it  their  highest  privilege  to  assert,  in 
defiance  of  all  opposition,  the  indisputable 
claims  of  a  sister's  love.  They  have  an  in- 
alienable right  to  share  in  her  calamity,  what- 
ever it  may  be,  and  this  right  they  will  not 
resign  to  another. 

But  what  shall  stay  my  pen,  when  I  touch 
upon  this  fertile  and  inexhaustible  theme? 


72 


DOMESTIC  HABITS  OF 


Sisters  who  have  never  known  the  deepest, 
holiest  influence  of  a  sister's  love,  will  not  be 
enabled,  from  any  definition  I  can  offer,  to 
understand  the  purity,  and  the  refreshing 
i  power  of  this  well-spring  of  human  happiness. 
Sisters  who  have  known  this,  will  also  know 
that  its  height  and  its  depth  are  beyond  the 
power  of  language  to  describe  ;  that  it  is,  in- 
deed, the  love  which  many  waters  cannot 
quench,  neither  can  the  floods  drown  it 

Is  it  not,  then,  worth  all  the  cost  of  the 
most  studious  consideration,  the  most  care- 
ful kindness,  to  win  this  treasure,  and  to  make 
it  ours  ?  to  purchase  this  gem,  and  to  wear 
it  next  our  hearts  ?  I  have  pointed  out  some 
of  the  means  by  which  it  may  be  lost  or  won : 
I  will  now  point  out  the  most  important  rea- 
sons why  it  should  be  cherished  with  un- 
ceasing assiduity. 

Sisters  have  an  almost  unbounded  influ- 
ence over  each  other  ;  and  all  influence  im- 
plies a  proportionate  degree  of  moral  respon- 
sibility. The  tone  and  temper  of  the  human 
mind  must  be  closely  watched,  and  intimate- 
ly studied,  in  order  to  apply  with  effect  the 
means  of  benefit  The  most  zealous  endea- 
vors to  do  good,  may  fail  for  want  of  oppor- 
tunity ;  but  opportunity  never  can  be  want- 
ing to  those  who  share  the  same  domestic 
hearth,  who  sit  at  the  same  board,  and  oc- 
cupy the  same  chamber  of  rest  There  must, 
with  such,  be  unveilings  of  the  heart  before 
each  other.  There  must  be  seasons  for  ad- 
ministering advice,  and  for  imparting  instruc- 
tion, which  the  stranger  never  can  command. 
But  without  the  practice  of  those  habits  of 
kindness  and  consideration,  so  earnestly  re- 
commended here,  the  nearest  relative,  even 
the  sister,  may  be  placed  on  the  same  footing 
as  the  stranger,  and  have  no  more  familiar 
access  to  the  heart  than  the  mere  acquaint- 
ance. 

It  is  therefore  most  important  to  the  true 
Christian,  whose  desire  is  to  invite  others  to 
a  participation  in  the  blessings  she  enjoys, 
that  f-he  should  seek  to  promote  the  happi- 
ness of  those  around  her,  in  such  a  way  as 
to  render  them  easy  and  familiar  in  her  pres- 
ence, and  to  convince  them  that  she  is  in 


word  and  deed  their  friend.  Until  this  object 
is  attained,  little  good  can  be  done  in  the  way 
of  influence  ;  but  this  secured,  innumerable 
channels  are  opened,  by  which  an  enlighten- 
ed mind  may  operate  beneficially  upon  others. 

We  will  imagine  the  case  of  a  sister,  whose 
feelings  have  been  recently  impressed  with 
the  importance  of  some  hitherto  unpractised 
duty,  and  who,  at  a  loss  how  to  begin  with 
that  improvement  in  her  daily  conduct  which 
conscience  points  out  as  necessary  to  her 
peace,  shrinks  from  the  notice  of  the  world, 
abashed  at  the  idea  of  assuming  more  than 
she  has  been  accustomed  to  maintain.  With 
what  fear  and  trembling  will  such  a  one,  in 
her  closet  or  her  chamber,  at  the  close  of  the 
summer's  evening,  or  by  the  last  glimmer  of 
the  winter's  fire,  when  she  and  het  sister 
share  the  silent  hours  of  night  together,  un- 
fold the  burden  of  her  spirit,  and  reveal  the 
inner  workings  of  her  troubled  mind  !  What 
should  we  say  of  a  sister  who  treated  this 
confidence  with  treachery,  with  ridicule  or 
spleen  7  What  should  we  say,  but  that  she 
deserved  to  find  the  heart  she  has  thus  in- 
sulted a  sealed  book  to  her  forever  1  What 
should  we  say,  on  the  other  hand,  of  her 
who  met  this  confidence  with  tenderness  and 
respect  ]  That  she  enjoyed  one  of  the  great- 
est privileges  permitted  us  in  this  our  imperfect 
and  degraded  state,  the  privilege  of  imparting 
consolation  and  instruction  at  the  same  time, 
and  of  binding  to  her  bosom  the  fond  affec- 
tion of  a  sister,  as  her  comfort  and  support 
through  all  her  after  years. 

It  is  a  common  remark  for  sisters  to  make 
upon  each  other,  that  they  would  have  paid 
some  deference  to  the  religious  scruple,  or  the 
pious  wish,  had  it  originated  with  a  more 
consistent  person.  They  should  remember, 
that  there  must  be  a  dawning  of  imperfect 
light,  to  usher  in  the  perfect  day ;  and  that 
he  who  crushes  the  first  germ  of  vegetation, 
commits  an  act  equivalent  to  that  of  him  who 
fells  the  stately  tree.  They  should  remem- 
ber also  it  is  not  only  the  great  and  public  ef- 
forts of  Christian  benevolence  and  charity, 
that  are  owned  of  God,  and  blessed  with  his 
approval ;  but  that  at  the  hour  of  midnight, 


THE  WOMEN  OF  ENGLAND. 


73 


in  the  secret  chamber,  when  the  world  takes 
no  cognizance  of  our  actions,  His  eye  beholds 
them,  and  his  ear  is  open  to  detect  the  slight- 
est whisper  that  conveys  its  blessing  or  its 
bane  to  the  heart  of  a  familiar  friend. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

DOMESTIC   HABITS,— CONSIDERATION   AND 
KINDNESS. 

THERE  yet  remain  some  aspects  of  human 
life,  which  it  is  impossible  to  pass  over  with- 
out the  most  earnest  solicitude,  that  even  if 
in  all  other  capacities  woman  should  forget 
her  responsibilities,  she  might  remember  what 
is  due  from  her  in  these.  It  is,  then,  to  the 
sacred  and  inalienable  bond  between  a  daugh- 
ter and  her  parents,  that  our  attention  must 
now  be  given. 

It  would  seem  but  reasonable  to  suppose, 
that  as  soon  as  an  amiable  young  woman  of 
even  partially  enlightened  mind,  attained  that 
stage  of  maturity  when  most  rational  beings 
begin  to  make  use  of  their  own  powers  of 
observation,  she  would  naturally  be  led  to 
reflect  upon  the  situation  of  her  mother,  to 
contemplate  her  character  and  habits,  and  to 
regard  with  sympathy  at  least,  the  daily  and 
hourly  fatigues  and  anxieties  which  the  na- 
ture of  her  domestic  circumstances  renders 
it  necessary  for  her  to  undergo.  If  the  young 
person  has  brothers  or  sisters  less  advanced 
in  life  than  herself,  she  cannot  fail  to  observe 
the  assiduity  with  which  all  their  wants  are 
provided  for  by  maternal  care,  as  well  as  the 
self-denial  and  disinterested  love,  by  which 
their  safety  is  guarded,  and  their  happiness 
preserved. 

It  is  equalty  reasonable  to  suppose,  that 
having  such  interesting  subjects  of  grateful 
and  affectionate  consideration  continually 
present  to  her  eye,  and  to  her  mind,  the 
young  person  would  reason  thus :  "  In  this 
manner  my  mother  has  watched  over  me. 
Through  long  nights  of  weariness  and  ex- 
haustion she  has  rocked  me  in  her  arms,  and 


stilled  the  sighs  of  her  own  bosom,  from  the 
fear  of  disturbing  my  repose.  Not  only  has 
she  denied  herself  every  amusement  and 
every  gratification  that  would  have  drawn 
her  away  from  the  sphere  of  my  childish  pas- 
times, but  also  the  wonted  recreations  neces- 
sary for  the  preservation  of  her  health  ;  until 
her  cheek  grew  pale,  and  her  step  feeble  in 
my  service.  I  was  then  unable  to  make  any 
other  return  than  by  my  infantine  caresses ; 
and  often  when  she  was  the  most  weary,  or 
the  most  enfeebled,  my  pampered  selfishness 
was  the  most  requiring.  Thus  I  have  in- 
curred a  debt  of  gratitude,  for  the  repayment 
of  which  the  limit  of  a  natural  life  will  scarce- 
ly be  sufficient  The  summer  of  her  exist- 
ence is  waning,  mine  is  yet  to  come.  I  will 
so  cultivate  my  feelings,  and  regulate  my 
habits,  as  to  enjoy  the  happiness  of  sharing 
her  domestic  burdens,  and  thus  prove  to  her 
that  I  am  not  unmindful  of  the  benefit  I  have 
myself  derived  from  the  long-suffering  of  a 
mother's  love." 

Do  we  find  this  to  be  the  prevailing  feel- 
ing among  the  young  ladies  of  the  present 
day  ?  Do  we  find  the  respected  and  vener- 
ated mother  so  carefully  cherished,  that  she 
is  permitted  to  sit  in  perfect  peace,  the  pre- 
siding genius,  as  she  ought  to  be,  over  every 
department  of  domestic  comfort — her  cares 
lightened  by  participation  with  her  affection- 
ate daughters,  her  mind  relieved  of  its  bur- 
dens by  their  watchful  love,  herself  arrayed 
in  the  best  attire,  as  a  badge  of  her  retirement 
from  active  duty,  and  smiling  as  the  steps  of 
time  glide  past  her,  because  she  knows  that 
younger  feet  are  walking  in  her  own  sweet 
ways  of  pleasantness  and  peace  1 

Is  this  the  picture  presented  in  the  present 
day  by  the  far-famed  homes  of  England] 
Do  we  not  rather  find  the  mother,  the  faith- 
ful and  time-worn  mother  of  the  family,  not 
only  the  moving  spring  of  all  domestic  man- 
agement, but  the  actual  working  power,  by 
which  every  household  plan  is  carried  into 
practical  effect  1  I  refer  of  course  to  cases 
where  domestics  are  few,  and  pecuniary 
means  not  over  abundant,  where  we  see  the 
mother  hastening  with  anxious  solicitude  to 


74 


DOMESTIC  HABITS  OF 


answer  every  call  from  every  member  of  the 
family  ;  as  if  her  part  in  the  duties  of  life  was 
not  only  to  have  waited  upon  her  children  in 
infancy,  but  to  conduct  them  to  an  easy  and 
luxurious  old  age;  in  short,  to  spare  their 
feet  from  walking,  their  hands  from  labor,  and 
their  heads  from  thought 

I  know  that  it  is  mistaken  kindness  in  the 
mother  to  allow  herself  thus  to  become  a 
household  drudge.  I  know  also  that  young 
ladies  are  easily  satisfied  with  what  appears 
to  them  a  reasonable  excuse,  that  "  mamma 
prefers  doing  all  these  tilings  herself,"  that 
"she  is  such  a  dear  kind  soul,  they  would 
not  rob  her  even  of  the  merit  of  mending 
their  own  garments."  But  let  me  ask  how 
often  she  prefers  doing  these  things  herself, 
simply  because  of  their  unwillingness  to  do 
them;  and  how  their  ungracious  manner, 
when  they  have  been  asked  to  relieve  her, 
has  wounded  her  patient  spirit,  and  rendered 
it  less  irksome  to  her  to  do  the  hardest  man- 
ual labor,  than  to  ask  them  again  ?  Let  me 
remind  them  also,  that  there  is  a  habit  of 
doing  things  so  awkwardly,  that  you  will  not 
be  likely  to  be  called  upon  for  your  services 
a  second  time ;  and  whether  by  accident  or 
design,  I  will  not  presume  to  say,  but  some 
young  ladies  certainly  appear  to  be  great 
adepts  in  this  method  of  performing  their 
duties. 

It  is  a  most  painful  spectacle  in  families 
where  the  mother  is  the  drudge,  to  see  the 
daughters  elegantly  dressed,  reclining  at 
their  ease,  with  their  drawing,  their  music, 
their  fancy-work,  and  their  light  reading ;  be- 
guiling themselves  of  the  lapse  of  hours, 
days,  and  weeks,  and  never  dreaming  of 
their  responsibilities ;  but,  as  a  necessary 
consequence  of  the  neglect  of  duty,  growing 
weary  of  their  useless  lives,  laying  hold  of 
every  newly  invented  stimulant  to  rouse  their 
drooping  energies,  and  blaming  their  fate 
when  they  dare  not  blame  their  God,  for 
having  placed  them  where  they  are. 

These  individuals  will  often  tell  you  with 
an  air  of  affected  compassion — for  who  can 
believe  it  real  ? — that  "  poor  dear  mamma  is 
working  herself  to  death."  Yet  no  sooner 


do  you  propose  that  they  should  assist  her, 
than  they  declare  she  is  quite  in  her  element 
— in  short,  that  she  would  never  be  happy  if 
she  had  only  half  as  much  to  do. 

I  have  before  observed,  that  it  is  not  diffi- 
cult to  ascertain,  on  entering  a  family,  whether 
the  female  members  of  it  are,  or  are  not  ac- 
tuated by  habits  of  kindness  and  considera- 
tion ;  and  in  no  instance  is  it  more  easily 
detected  than  in  the  behavior  of  the  daugh- 
ters to  their  mother.  We  have  probably  all 
seen  elegant  and  accomplished  young  ladies 
doing  the  honors  of  the  house  to  their  guests, 
by  spreading  before  them  that  lavish  profu- 
sion of  books  and  pictures,  with  which  every 
table  of  every  drawing-room  is,  in  these  mod- 
ern times,  adorned.  We  have  heard  them 
expatiate  with  taste  and  enthusiasm  upon  the 
works  of  art,  upon  the  beauties  of  foreign 
scenery,  and  the  delights  of  travelling  abroad ; 
while  the  mother  is  simultaneously  engaged 
in  superintending  the  management  of  the 
viands  about  to  be  spread  before  the  com- 
pany, or  in  placing  the  last  leaf  of  garniture 
around  the  dessert,  upon  which  her  daugh- 
ters have  never  condescended  to  bestow  a 
thought 

It  is  easy,  in  these  cases,  to  see  by  the  anx- 
ious and  perturbed  appearance  of  the  mistress 
of  the  house,  when  she  does  at  last  appear, 
that  she  has  no  assistance,  but  that  which  a 
very  limited  number  of  domestics  could  ren- 
der, behind  the  scenes ;  that  every  variety  of 
the  repast  which  her  guests  are  pressed  to 
partake  of,  has  cost  her  both  trouble  to  invent 
and  labor  to  prepare ;  and  we  feel  that  we 
are  regaling  ourselves  too  much  at  her  ex- 
pense. 

There  is  a  painful  contrast  between  the 
care  and  anxiety  depicted  on  her  brow,  and 
the  indifference — the  real  or  pretended  igno- 
rance with  which  the  young  ladies  speak, 
when  it  is  absolutely  necessary,  of  any  of 
those  culinary  compositions  which  they  re- 
gard as  belonging  exclusively  to  the  depart- 
ment of  mothers  and  servants.  If  by  any 
possible  mischance,  the  good  woman  alludes 
to  the  flavor  of  her  compounds,  wishing, 
purely  for  the  sake  of  her  guests,  that  she 


THE  WOMEN  OF  ENGLAND. 


75 


had  added  a  little  more  of  the  salt,  or  the 
cinnamon, — indications  of  nausea,  accompa- 
nied by  symptoms  of  indignation  and  disgust, 
immediately  manifest  themselves  among  the 
young  ladies,  and  they  really  wonder  what 
mamma  will  be  absurd  enough  to  say  next. 

It  is  in  such  families  as  this,  that,  not  only 
on  days  of  leisure,  but  on  days  when  extra 
services  are  sure  to  be  wanted  in  the  home 
department,  the  daughters  always  find  some 
pressing  call  upon  their  attention  out  of  doors. 
They  have  their  morning  calls  to  make ;  and 
there  is  that  mysterious  shopping  to  attend 
to,  that  never  has  an  end.  Indeed,  one  would 
almost  think,  from  the  frequency  with  which 
they  resort  to  some  of  the  most  fashionable 
shops  in  town,  that  each  of  these  young 
ladies  had  a  peculiar  taste  for  the  mode  of 
life  prevailing  in  this  particular  sphere  of 
exertion,  were  it  not  for  the  indignation  she 
manifests  at  the  remotest  hint  upon  the  duty 
of  assisting  her  father  in  his. 

It  is  astonishing  how  duties  out  of  doors 
accumulate  upon  persons  who  are  glad  of 
any  excuse  to  escape  from  those  at  home. 
No  one  can  deny  the  necessity  they  are  un- 
der of  pursuing  that  course  of  mental  im- 
provement begun  at  school ;  and  there  are 
lectures  on  every  science  to  be  attended,  bor- 
rowed books  to  be  returned,  and  little  coter- 
ies of  studious  young  people  to  join  in  their 
morning  classes. 

It  is  also  curious  to  observe  that  these 
young  ladies  who  can  with  difficulty  be  in- 
duced to  move  about  in  their  own  homes, 
even  to  spare  their  mother's  weary  feet,  who 
esteem  it  an  act  of  oppression  in  her  to  send 
them  to  the  highest  apartment  of  the  house, 
and  of  degradation  in  themselves  to  descend 
to  the  lowest, — it  is  curious  to  observe  how 
these  regard  themselves  as  under  an  abso- 
lute necessity  to  walk  out  every  day  for  their 
health,  and  how  they  choose  that  precise 
time  for  walking  when  their  mothers  are 
most  busy,  and  their  domestic  peace,  by  a 
natural  consequence,  most  likely  to  be  in- 
vaded. 

I  would  touch,  with  extreme  delicacy,  upon 
another  branch  of  public  occupation,  because 


I  believe  it  to  be  entered  upon,  in  innumera- 
ble instances,  with  feelings  which  do  honor 
to  humanity,  and  to  that  religion,  under 
whose  influence  alone,  such  avocations  can 
be  faithfully  carried  on.  But  I  must  confess, 
there  appears  to  me  some  ground  to  fear, 
that  the  amusement  of  doing  public  good,  the 
excitement  it  produces,  and  especially  the 
exemption  it  purchases  from  domestic  re- 
quirements, has  something  to  do  with  the 
zeal  evinced  by  some  young  females  to  be 
employed  as  instruments  in  the  dissemination 
of  religious  knowledge,  and  the  augmentation 
of  funds  appropriated  to  benevolent  uses. 

Fearing,  however,  lest  what  might  assume 
even  the  faintest  coloring  of  uncharitableness, 
should  fall  from  my  pen  on  this  delicate  but 
most  important  subject,  I  will  leave  it  with 
the  individuals  thus  engaged,  as  fitter  for 
their  consideration,  than  for  my  remark. 
The  world  takes  cognizance  of  their  actions, 
and  it  is  perhaps  occasionally  too  lavish  in 
its  bestowment  of  their  praises.  But  the 
world  is  a  false  friend,  for  it  can  applaud 
where  there  is  little  real  merit,  and  condemn 
where  there  ought  to  be  no  blame. 

Let  not  the  really  faithful  and  sincere  be 
hurt  by  these  insinuations.  Their  cause  is 
beyond  the  penetration  of  man,  and  their  real 
springs  of  action  are  known,  where  alone  they 
can  be  truly  estimated, — where  alone  they  can 
meet  with  their  just  reward. 

How  different  from  the  feelings  called  forth 
by  habits  such  as  I  have  just  described,  are 
those  with  which  we  take  up  our  abode  in  a 
family,  where  we  know  that  the  morning  sun 
has  risen  upon  daughters,  who  meet  its  early 
beams  with  the  cheerful  determination,  that 
whatever  may  be  the  business  of  the  day, 
their  hands,  and  not  their  mother's,  shall  do 
the  actual  work !  Her  experience,  and  her 
ever-guiding  judgment,  may  direct  their  la- 
bors; but  she  who  has  so  often  toiled  and 
watched  for  them,  shall  at  least  enjoy  another 
opportunity  of  seeing  how  gladly  and  how 
richly  they  can  repay  the  debt.  The  first 
thought  that  occupies  their  minds,  is,  how  to 
guard  her  precious  health.  They  meet  her 
in  the  morning  with  affectionate  solicitude, 


76 


DOMESTIC  HABITS  OF 


and  look  to  see  if  her  cheek  has  become  less 
pale ;  whether  her  smile  is  languid,  or  cheer- 
ful— her  step,  weary  or  light. 

I  must  again  repeat,  that  one  of  the  surest 
tests  of  true  disinterested  love  is  this  readi- 
ness to  detect  indisposition.  Persons  who 
are  in  the  habit  of  cherishing  antipathies, 
seldom  believe  in  the  minor  ailments  of  those 
they  dislike.  These  facts  render  it  the  more 
surprising,  that  daughters  should  not  always 
see  the  symptoms  of  exhausted  strength, 
which  too  frequently  manifest  themselves  in 
industrious  and  care-taking  mothers ;  that 
they  should  not  watch  with  the  tenderest 
anxiety  the  slightest  indication  of  their  valu- 
able health  being  liable  to  decay.  Yet  so  it 
is,  that  the  mother  of  a  family,  who  cares  for 
every  ailment  in  her  household,  is  the  last  to 
be  cared  for  herself,  except  in  cases  affording 
those  beautiful  exemplifications  of  filial  duty 
to  which  allusion  has  just  been  made. 

With  daughters  who  are  sensible  of  the 
strong  claims  of  a  mother's  love,  no  care  can 
be  too  great,  no  solicitude  too  tender,  to  be- 
stow upon  that  beloved  parent  They  know 
that  if  deprived  of  this  friend  of  their  infancy 
— this  guide  of  their  erring  feet — the  world 
will  be  comparatively  poor  to  them :  and  as 
the  miser  guards  his  hoarded  treasure,  they 
guard  the  life,  for  which  that  world  would  be 
incapable  of  supplying  a  substitute. 

There  are  few  subjects  of  contemplation 
more  melancholy,  than  the  waste  of  human 
love  which  the  aspect  of  this  world  presents 
—of  deep,  tender,  untiring,  disinterested  love, 
bestowed  in  such  a  manner  as  U>  meet  no  ade- 
quate return :  and  what  must  be  the  harvest 
gathered  in,  to  a  mother's  faithful  bosom, 
when  she  finds  that  she  has  reared  up  chil- 
dren who  are  too  refined  to  share  her  humble 
cares,  too  learned  and  too  clever  to  waste 
their  talents  on  a  sphere  of  thought  and  ac- 
tion like  her  own,  and  too  much  engaged  in 
the  pursuit  of  intellectual  attainments,  even 
to  think  of  her ! 

Yet  to  whom  do  we  look  for  consolation 
when  the  blight  of  sickness  or  sorrow  falls 
upon  our  earthly  peace,  but  to  a  mother! 
And  who  but  a  mother  is  invited  to  partake 


of  our  afflictions  or  our  trials?  If  the  stigma 
of  worldly  degradation  falls  upon  us,  we  fly 
to  a  mother's  love,  for  that  mantle  of  charity 
which  is  denied  elsewhere.  With  more  hon- 
ored and  distinguished  associates,  we  may 
have  smiled  away  the  golden  hours  of  life's 
young  prime ;  but  the  bitter  tears  of  experi- 
ence are  wept  upon  a  mother's  bosom.  We 
keep  for  our  summer  friends  the  amusing 
story,  the  brilliant  witticism,  or  the  intellectual 
discourse ;  but  we  tell  to  a  mother's  ear  the 
tale  of  our  distress,  and  the  history  of  our 
wrongs.  For  all  that  belongs  to  the  weak- 
ness and  the  wants  of  humanity,  a  mother's 
affection  is  sorely  taxed ;  why  then  should 
not  daughters  have  the  noble  feeling  to  say 
before  the  world,  and  to  let  their  actions  speak 
the  same  language, — "  This  is  my  earliest  and 
my  best  friend  V 

It  is  true,  the  mother  may  be  far  behind  the 
daughter  in  the  accomplishments  of  modern 
education ;  she  may,  perhaps,  occasionally 
betray  her  ignorance  of  polite  literature,  or 
her  want  of  acquaintance  with  the  customs 
of  polished  society.  But  how  can  this  in 
any  way  affect  the  debt  of  obligation  exist- 
ing between  her  daughter  and  herself?  or 
how  can  it  lessen  the  validity  of  her  claim  to 
gratitude  for  services  received,  and  esteem 
for  the  faithfulness  with  which  those  services 
have  been  performed  1 

Let  us  not  believe  of  the  young  ladies  of 
the  present  day  that  they  can  for  any  length- 
ened period,  allow  the  march  of  mind  to  out- 
run the  growth  of  their  kindly  feelings.  Let 
us  rather  hope  the  time  is  coming  when  they 
will  exhibit  to  the  world  that  beautiful  exem- 
plification of  true  dignity — a  high  degree  of 
intellectual  culture  rendered  conducive  to  the 
happiness  of  those  who  claim  their  deepest 
gratitude,  and  their  tenderest  affection. 

The  next  view  we  propose  to  take  of  the 
domestic  habits  of  the  women  of  this  favored 
country,  is  that  of  their  behavior  in  the  rela- 
tion between  daughters  and  fathers. 

The  affection  existing  between  fathers  and 
daughters,  is  a  favorite  theme  with  writers 
both  of  romance  and  reality  ;  and  the  familiar 
walks  of  life,  we  doubt  not,  are  rich  in  in- 


THE  WOMEN  OF  ENGLAND. 


77 


stances  of  this  peculiar  kind  of  affection  ex- 
isting in  a  lovely,  and  most  unquestionable 
form.  Still  there  are  points  of  view  in  which 
this  subject,  as  illustrated  by  the  customs  of 
society  in  the  present  day,  cannot  be  con- 
templated without  pain. 

I  have  often  had  occasion  to  speak  of  the 
duties  of  women  towards  their  fathers,  broth- 
ers, husbands,  and  sons,  when  engaged  in 
the  active  pursuits  of  trade ;  and  there  is  an 
anomaly  presented  by  society  of  this  class  in 
England,  which  I  am  particularly  anxious  to 
point  out  to  the  rising  generation. 

There  are  vast  numbers  of  worthy  and  in- 
dustrious men,  not  only  of  the  young  and  the 
middle-aged,  but  of  those  who  are  sinking 
into  the  vale  of  years,  who  spend  almost  the 
whole  of  their  waking  lives  in  scenes  and 
occupations,  from  which  almost  every  thing 
in  the  shape  of  enjoyment  must  necessarily 
be  shut  out 

In  looking  into  the  shops,  the  warehouses, 
the  offices,  and  the  counting-houses,  of  our 
commercial  and  manufacturing  towns,  we 
are  struck  with  the  destitution  of  comfort 
which  everywhere  prevails,  and  we  ask, — 
"Are  these  the  abodes  of  free-born,  indepen- 
dent men  7" 

I  should  be  sorry  to  be  weak  enough  to 
suppose  that  an  honest  and  industrious  man 
may  not  be  just  as  happy  when  he  treads  on 
boards,  as  when  he  treads  on  Turkey  carpets ; 
yet  again,  when  we  begin  the  early  day  with 
such  individuals,  and  see  what  their  occupa- 
tions actually  are,  from  nine  in  the  morning, 
often  until  late  in  the  afternoon  or  evening, 
for  weeks,  and  months,  and  years,  with 
scarcely  any  respite  or  relaxation,  we  natu- 
rally ask  how  are  the  wives  and  daughters  of 
these  men  employed  7  For  surely  if  there  be 
a  necessity  for  the  father  of  the  family  to  be 
situated  thus,  the  kinder  and  more  disinter- 
ested members  of  his  household  must  be 
dwelling  in  abodes  even  more  uncongenial 
and  revolting  than  these.  It  is  but  reasona- 
ble to  expect  that  we  should  find  them  in 
apartments  less  luxurious  in  their  furniture, 
with  windows  less  pervious  to  the  light  of 
day,  their  persons  perched  upon  harder  stools, 


and  altogether  accommodated  in  an  inferior 
manner.  And  this  we  are  led  to  expect, 
simply  because  it  is  difficult  to  believe  of 
generous-hearted  women,  that  they  would 
be  willing  to  enjoy  indulgences  purchased  at 
the  sacrifice  of  the  comfort  of  those  they  love, 
and  by  the  degradation  of  those  whom  they 
look  up  to  as  their  superiors. 

Perhaps  we  are  told  that  to  man  it  is  no 
sacrifice  to  spend  his  life  in  these  dungeon- 
like  apartments,  shut  in  from  the  pure  air, 
and  compelled  to  deal  with  the  extreme  mi- 
nutiae of  what  is  neither  interesting  nor  dig- 
nified in  itself— that  he  regards  not  these  tri- 
fling inconveniences,  that  he  is  accustomed 
to  them,  and  that  they  are  what  the  world 
esteems  as  manly  and  befitting ;  yet  on  being 
invited  to  pay  our  respects  to  the  ladies  of 
the  family,  we  find  ourselves  transported  into 
a  scene  so  entirely  different  from  that  of  his 
daily  toil,  that  we  are  led  to  exclaim, — "  How 
opposite  must  be  the  tastes  of  men  and  wo- 
men in  this  sphere  of  life,  in  England  !"  A 
little  more  acquaintance  with  their  domestic 
habits,  however,  enables  us  to  discover  that 
their  tastes  are  not  so  different  as  their  cir- 
cumstances, and  that  the  cares,  the  anxieties, 
and  the  actual  labor,  which  the  man  is  under- 
going every  day,  are  placing  him  on  a  very 
different  footing,  with  regard  to  personal  com- 
fort, from  the  females  of  his  household. 

And  how  do  the  women  strive  to  soothe 
these  cares,  to  relieve  these  anxieties,  and  to 
lighten  these  labors  1  Do  they  not  often  make 
their  own  personal  expenses  extend  to  the 
extreme  limit  that  his  means  will  afford  ]  Do 
they  not  dress,  and  visit,  receive  visitors,  and 
practise  all  those  elegant  accomplishments, 
which  their  father's  exertions  have  been  tax- 
ed to  pay  for. 

I  know  that  the  blame  does  not  always  rest 
with  the  female  members  of  the  family,  but 
that  men,  especially  when  they  first  marry, 
are  often  pleased  to  behold  their  wives  array- 
ed in  the  most  costly  habiliments  which  their 
means  can  procure  :  in  addition  to  this,  they 
believe  that  their  interest  in  the  world  is  ad- 
vanced by  keeping  up  a  certain  degree  of 
costly  display,  both  in  dress  and  furniture. 


DOMESTIC  HABITS  OF 


As  time  advances,  however,  and  their  spirits 
grow  less  buoyant  under  the  pressure  of  ac- 
cumulated cares,  especially  if  these  cares  have 
been  unproductive  of  so  golden  a  harvest  as 
they  had  anticipated,  and  when  daughters  are 
growing  up  to  double — nay,  to  treble  their 
mother's  expenditure,  by  adding  all  the  ima- 
gined essentials  of  modern  refinement ;  the 
fether  then  perceives,  perhaps  too  late  to  re- 
trieve his  ruined  circumstances,  the  error  into 
which  he  has  been  led  ;  and  fain  would  he 
then,  in  the  midst  of  his  bitter  regrets,  per- 
suade his  daughters  to  begin  to  think  and  act 
upon  different  principles  from  those  which  he 
has  himself  so  thoughtlessly  instilled. 

Perhaps  the  father  is  sinking  into  the  vale 
of  years,  his  spirit  broken,  and  some  of  the 
growing  infirmities  of  age  stealing  insidiously 
upon  him.  His  manly  figure  begins  to  stoop, 
his  eye  grows  dim,  and  he  comes  home  weary 
from  his  daily  labor.  What  a  melancholy 
picture  is  presented  by  the  image  of  such  a 
man  going  forth  in  public,  with  his  gaily  and 
expensively  dressed  daughters  fluttering  by 
his  side ! 

Nor  is  this  all.  Let  us  follow  them  home. 
He  rises  early,  wearied  and  worn  as  he  is, 
and,  snatching  a  hasty  breakfast  before  his 
daughters  have  come  down,  goes  forth  to  his 
daily  avocations,  leaving  them  to  their  morn- 
ing calls,  light  reading,  and  fancy-work,  until 
his  return.  At  the  close  of  the  day,  his  step 
is  again  heard  on  the  threshold.  He  has  be- 
gun to  feel  that  the  walk  is  too  much  for  him. 
Conveyances,  in  countless  numbers,  have 
passed  him  on  his  way,  but  these  are  not 
times  for  him  to  afford  the  luxury  of  riding, 
for  a  rival  tradesman  has  just  opened  a  tempt- 
ing establishment  in  the  neighborhood  of  his 
own,  and  the  evils  of  competition  are  destroy- 
ing half  his  gains.  With  a  jaded  look  and 
feeble  step,  then,  he  enters  his  home.  He 
wipes  the  gathering  dew  from  his  wrinkled 
forehead,  sits  down  with  a  sigh  almost 
amounting  to  a  groan  of  despondency,  and 
then  looks  round  upon  the  well-furnished  par- 
lor, where  the  ladies  of  his  family  spend  their 
idle  hours. 
We  will  not  libel  the  daughters  so  far  as  to 


say,  they  are  guilty  of  neglect  in  not  inviting 
him  to  partake  of  his  evening  meal  They 
may  even  press  their  kisses  on  his  cheek,  and 
express  their  welcome  in  the  warmest  terms. 
Supposing  they  have  done  all  this,  and  that 
he  is  beginning  to  feel  invigorated  and  re- 
freshed, perhaps  revived  a  little  in  his  spirit 
by  this  evidence  of  their  affection,  at  length 
he  smiles ;  and  that  smile  has  been  eagerly 
watched  for,  as  the  indication  that  his  heart  is 
warming  into  generosity. 

Now  is  the  auspicious  time  :  "  Papa,  dear, 
have  you  ever  thought  again  of  the  silk  cloaks 
you  promised  us,  as  soon  as  Mr.  Moody's  bill 
was  paid  1  And  Emma  wants  a  velvet  bon- 
net this  winter.  And  papa,  dear,  where  did 
you  say  we  could  get  the  best  satin  shoes  1" 
"  My  love,"  says  the  wife,  in  a  graver,  and 
more  important  tone,  "  These  poor  girls  are 
sadly  in  want  of  drawing-paper — indeed,  of 
pencils,  and  of  every  thing  belonging  to  their 
drawing  ;  for  you  know  it  is  of  no  use  having 
a  master  to  teach  4hem,  unless  we  provide 
them  with  the  necessary  materials.  And  Isa- 
bella's music — I  was  positively  ashamed  to 
hear  her  play  those  old  pieces  again  at  Mrs. 
Melburn's  last  night" 

We  have  seen  pictures  of  birds  of  prey 
hovering  about  their  dying  victim ;  but  I 
doubt  whether  a  still  more  repulsive  and  mel- 
ancholy picture  might  not  be  made,  of  a  man 
of  business  in  the  decline  of  b'fe,  when  he 
naturally  asks  for  repose,  spurred  and  goaded 
into  fresh  exertions,  by  the  artificial  wants  and 
insatiable  demands  of  his  wife  and  daugh- 
ters. 

The  root  of  the  evil,  I  grant  to  be,  not  so 
much  in  the  hard  hearts  of  the  individuals 
here  described,  as  in  the  system  of  false  re- 
finement which  prevails  in  this  country.  But 
whatever  the  cause  or  the  remedy  may  be, 
those  will  be  happy  days  for  England,  when 
her  noble-minded  women,  despite  the  preju- 
dices of  early  education,  shall  stand  forth  be- 
fore the  world,  and  show  that  they  dare  be 
dutiful  daughters  rather  than  ladies  of  fash- 
ion ;  and  that  the  principles  of  integrity,  gen- 
erosity, and  natural  feeling,  have  taught  them 
never  to  wish  for  enjoyment  purchased  by 


THE  WOMEN  OF  ENGLAND. 


79 


the  sacrifice  of  a  father's  health,  or  a  hus- 
band's peace. 

I  know  not  whether  it  often  occurs  to  the 
young,  or  only  to  those  whose  experience  has 
been  of  longer  duration,  to  make  this  obser- 
vation upon  human  nature — that  it  is  not  in- 
tentional offence,  or  intentional  injury,  which 
always  inflicts  the  severest  pain.  A  mother 
who,  by  her  ill-judged  indulgence,  fosters  in 
her  child  a  selfish  and  domineering  temper, 
and  thus  renders  such  evil  dispositions  iden- 
tified with  the  very  nature  of  that  child,  so 
that  it  is  a  stranger  to  any  other  principles  of 
action,  is  as  much  hurt  when,  in  after  life, 
her  child  is  selfish  and  domineering  towards 
herself,  as  if  he  actually  departed  from  his  ac- 
customed line  of  conduct,  for  the  purpose  of 
being  pointedly  unkind  to  her.  In  the  same 
way,  the  father  who  has  brought  up  his  fam- 
ily in  habits  of  extravagance,  when  he  feels 
the  tide  of  prosperity  turning  against  him,  for- 
gets that  those  habits  are  necessarily  stronger 
than  his  reasoning,  and  is  wounded  to  the 
soul  to  think  that  his  daughters  are  not  more 
considerate.  Upon  the  same  principle  of 
groundless  expectation,  we  often  see  well- 
meaning  but  injudicious  parents  taking  ex- 
treme pains  to  guard  their  children  against 
one  particular  error  in  conduct,  or  one  spe- 
cies of  vice,  yet  neglecting  to  lay  that  only  sure 
foundation  of  moral  conduct  which  is  to  be 
found  in  religious  principle ;  and  these,  again, 
are  shocked  to  find,  as  their  children  advance 
in  life,  that  all  their  endeavors  have  been  un- 
productive of  the  desired  result.  Nor  must 
I,  while  pointing  out  errors  in  the  behavior 
of  children  towards  their  parents,  omit  to  ob- 
serve, that  if  parents  would  be  more  solicit- 
ous to  instil  into  their  minds  the  importance 
of  relative  and  social  duties  faithfully  per- 
formed, instead  of  captiously  reproving  them 
for  every  deviation  from  the  strict  line  of  these 
duties,  they  would  find  themselves  more  hap- 
py in  their  families,  more  tenderly  watched 
over  in  sickness  and  sorrow — more  cherished 
and  revered  in  the  decline  of  life. 

Still,  though  the  fault  may,  in  some  cases, 
have  been  originally  with  the  parents,  there 
is  little  excuse  for  daughters,  who  are  of  age 


to  think  and  act  for  themselves.  Habit,  we 
know,  is  proverbially  accounted  second  na- 
ture ;  but  we  know  also,  that  even  our  first 
nature  is  capable  of  being  changed. 

He  who  has  become  subject  to  a  painful 
and  dangerous  disease,  through  the  neglect 
or  mismanagement  of  those  who  had  the 
care  of  him  in  early  life,  does  not  content 
himself  with  saying  it  was  the  maltreatment 
of  his  nurse  that  brought  upon  him  this  ca- 
lamity. If  the  disease  admits  of  remedy— 
if  it  even  admits  of  alleviation — he  is  as  earn- 
est in  seeking  out  and  applying  the  proper 
means  of  relief,  as  if  he  had  been  the  sole 
cause  of  his  own  affliction.  And  shall  we 
confine  our  powers  of  reasoning  rightly,  and 
acting  promptly,  to  the  promotion  of  the  ben- 
efit of  the  body,  and  leave  the  immortal  mind 
to  suffer  for  eternity,  without  applying  such 
remedies  as  are  provided  for  its  use  ? 

Whether  the  evil  be  in  the  original  taint 
of  our  nature,  or  in  the  same  nature  inherent 
in  another  form,  and  operating  upon  us 
through  the  medium  of  injudicious  treat- 
ment, we  stand  in  precisely  the  same  posi- 
tion with  regard  to  moral  responsibility,  and 
accountability  to  the  Searcher  of  all  human 
hearts. 

It  is  right  the  tender  sympathy  of  our 
friends  should  be  excited,  when  we  tell  them 
that  the  faults  for  which  they  blame  us  were 
fostered  and  encouraged  by  the  mistaken 
judgment  of  our  parents  in  early  life  ;  but 
there  is  a  tribunal  at  which  this  plea  will  be 
of  little  avail,  if,  while  the  means  of  reforma- 
tion are  yet  within  our  reach,  we  suffer  such 
habits  to  strengthen  and  establish  themselves 
as  part  of  our  character  ;  and  I  would  earn- 
estly recommend  to  the  'young  women  of 
England,  that  they  should  rouse  themselves, 
and  act  upon  the  first  conviction,  that  the 
advantages  resulting  from  what  is  called  a 
finished  education,  are  but  so  many  addition- 
al talents  lent  them,  for  employment  in  the 
service  of  that  gracious  Father,  who  has 
charged  his  children  with  the  keeping  of 
each  other's  happiness,  and  who,  when  he 
instituted  the  parental  bond,  and  filled  the 
mother's  heart  with  love,  and  touched  with 


DOMESTIC  HABITS  OF 


tenderness  the  father's  firmer  soul,  was 
pleased  to  appoint  them  after-years  of  weak- 
ness, suffering,  and  infirmity,  when  their  chil- 
dren would  be  able  to  enjoy  the  holy  privilege 
of  conducting  their  feeble  steps  in  peace  and 
safety  towards  the  close  of  their  earthly  pil- 
grimage. 


CHAPTER  X. 

DOMESTIC  HABITS,— CONSIDEKATION  AND  KIND- 
NESS. 

THAT  branch  of  the  subject  upon  which  I 
am  now  entering  being  one  of  so  much  im- 
portance in  the  sum  of  human  happiness  as 
scarcely  to  admit  of  comparison  with  any 
other,  it  might  be  expected  that  I  should  es- 
pecially direct  the  attention  of  the  reader  to 
the  duties  of  consideration  and  kindness  in 
the  married  state,  by  entering  into  the  minu- 
tiae of  its  especial  requirements,  and  recom- 
mending them  with  all  the  earnestness  of 
emphatic  detail,  to  the  serious  consideration 
of  the  women  of  England.  Happy  indeed 
should  I  be  to  do  this,  did  I  not  feel  that,  at 
the  same  time,  I  should  be  touching  upon  a 
theme  too  delicate  for  the  handling  of  an  or- 
dinary pen,  and  venturing  beyond  that  veil 
which  the  sacredness  of  such  a  connection 
is  calculated  to  draw  over  all  that  is  ex- 
treme in  the  happiness  or  misery  of  human 
life. 

I  shall  therefore  glance  only  upon  those 
points  which  are  most  obvious  to  the  eye  of 
a  third  party  ;  and  in  doing  this,  it  will  be 
found,  that  many  of  the  remarks  I  have 
made  upon  the  behavior  of  daughters  to 
their  fathers,  are  equally  applicable  to  that  of 
wives  towards  their  husbands.  There  is, 
however,  this  great  difference — the  connec- 
tion existing  between  married  people  is  al- 
most invariably  a  matter  of  choice.  A  daugh- 
ter may,  sometimes,  imagine  herself  excused, 
by  supposing  that  her  father  is  too  uncon- 
genial in  mind  and  character,  for  her  to  owe 
him  much  in  the  way  of  companionship. 


She  may  think  his  manners  vulgar,  and  be- 
lieve that  if  she  had  a  father  who  was  a  gen- 
tleman, she  would  be  more  attentive  and 
considerate  to  him.  But  her  husband  cannot 
have  married  her  without  her  own  consent ; 
and  therefore  the  engagement  she  has  volun- 
tarily entered  into,  must  be  to  fulfil  the  duties 
of  a  wife  to  him  as  he  is,  and  not  as  she 
could  have  wished  or  imagined  him  to  be. 

These  considerations  lead  me  to  a  view  of 
the  subject  which  I  have  often  been  com- 
pelled to  take  with  deep  regret,  but  which  I 
fear  no  human  pen,  and  still  less  mine,  will 
be  able  to  change  :  it  is  the  false  system  of 
behavior  kept  up  between  those  who  are 
about  to  enter  into  the  relation  of  marriage  ; 
so  that  when  they  settle  down  upon  the  true 
basis  of  their  own  characters,  and  appear  to 
each  other  what  they  actually  are,  the  differ- 
ence is  sometimes  so  great,  as  almost  to  justi- 
fy the  inquiry  whether  the  individual  can  re- 
ally be  the  same. 

I  presume  not  to  expatiate  upon  that  pro- 
cess denominated  courtship,  as  it  is  frequent- 
ly carried  on  by  men.  I  venture  not  to  ac- 
cuse them  of  injustice,  in  cherishing,  in  their 
early  intercourse  with  the  object  of  their 
choice,  the  very  faults  which  they  afterwards 
complain  of  in  the  wife.  My  chief  solicitude 
is  for  my  own  sex,  that  they  should  not  only 
be  faithful  after  marriage,  but  upright  and 
sincere  before ;  and  that  they  should  scorn 
to  engage  a  lover,  by  little  acts  of  considera- 
tion and  kindness  which  they  are  not  pre- 
pared to  practise  even  more  willingly  to- 
wards the  husband. 

I  have  known  cases  in  which  a  kind- 
hearted  woman  would  have  esteemed  her- 
self robbed  of  a  privilege,  if  her  lover  had 
asked  any  other  person  than  herself,  so  much 
as  to  mend  his  glove.  Yet  is  it  not  possible 
for  the  same  woman,  two  years  after  mar- 
riage, to  say — "  My  sister,  or  my  cousin,  will 
do  that  for  you.  I  am  too  busy  now." 

Nor  is  it  the  act  alone,  but  the  manner  in 
which  the  act  is  done,  that  conveys  a  false 
impression  of  what  will  be  the  manner  of 
that  woman  after  marriage.  I  charge  no  one 
with  intentional  deception.  The  very  ex 


THE  WOMEN  OF  ENGLAND. 


81 


pression  of  the  countenance  is  that  of  real 
and  intense  enjoyment,  while  the  act  of  kind- 
ness is  performed.  All  I  regret  is,  that  the 
same  expressions  of  countenance  should  not 
always  accompany  the  same  performance  in 
the  wife.  All  women  of  acute  sensibility 
must  feel  the  loss  of  personal  attractions, 
when  time  begins  to  tell  upon  their  youthful 
charms.  But,  oh  !  that  they  would  learn  by 
the  warning  of  others,  rather  than  by  their 
own  experience,  that  it  is  most  frequently  the 
want  of  this  expression  of  cheerful,  genuine, 
disinterested  kindness,  than  the  want  of 
youthful  beauty,  that  alienates  their  hus- 
bands' love,  and  makes  them  objects  of  in- 
difference, or  worse. 

The  cultivation  of  acquaintance  before 
marriage,  with  a  view  to  that  connection 
taking  place,  for  the  most  part  goes  but  a 
very  little  way  towards  the  knowledge  of 
real  character.  The  parties  usually  meet 
in  the  hey-day  of  inexperienced  youth  ;  and 
while  they  exult  in  the  unclouded  sunshine 
of  life,  their  mutual  endeavors  to  please 
are  rewarded  by  an  equal  willingness  to  be 
pleased.  The  woman,  especially,  is  placed 
in  a  situation  highly  calculated  to  excite  the 
greatest  possible  degree  of  complacency.  She 
is  treated  by  a  being  upon  whom  she  depends, 
and  he  most  probably  her  superior,  as  if  she 
was  incapable  of  error,  and  guiltless  of  a 
single  fault.  Perhaps  she  warns  him  of  his 
mistake,  speaks  of  her  own  defects,  and  as- 
sures him  that  she  is  not  the  angelic  creature 
he  supposes  her  to  be  ;  but  she  does  all  this 
with  so  sweet  a  grace,  and  looks  all  the  while 
so  pleased  to  be  contradicted,  that  her  infor- 
mation goes  for  nothing  ;  and  we  are  by  no 
means  assured  that  she  is  not  better  satsified 
it  should  be  so. 

If,  for  instance,  she  really  wishes  him  to 
know  that  her  temper  is  naturally  bad,  why  is 
she  invariably  so  mild,  and  bland,  and  con- 
ciliating in  his  presence  ]  If  she  wishes  him 
to  believe  that  she  has  a  mind  not  capable  of 
entering  fully  into  the  interest  of  his  favorite 
books,  and  the  subjects  of  his  favorite  dis- 
course, why  does  she  appear  to  listen  so  at- 
tentively when  he  reads,  and  ask  so  many 


questions  calculated  to  draw  him  out  into 
conversation  ?  If  she  wishes  him  to  suppose 
that  she  is  not  always  a  lively  and  agreeable 
companion,  why  does  she  not  occasionally 
assume  the  tone  and  manner  so  familiar  to 
her  family  at  home — answer  him  shortly, 
hang  down  her  head,  and  mope  away  the 
evening  when  he  is  near  her  1  If  she  really 
wishes  him  to  believe  her,  when  she  tells  him 
that  she  is  but  ill-informed,  and  wanting  in 
judgment;  why,  when  he  talks  with  her, 
does  she  take  so  much  pains  to  express  opin- 
ions generally  believed  to  be  correct,  and 
especially  such  as  coincide  with  his  own] 
If  she  occasionally  acts  from  caprice,  and 
really  wishes  him  to  know  that  she  does  so, 
to  the  injury  of  the  comfort  of  those  around 
her ;  why,  whenever  she  practises  in  this 
way  upon  him,  does  she  win  him  back  again, 
and  soothe  his  feelings  with  redoubled  kind- 
ness, and  additional  solicitude  to  please  ? 

Perhaps  she  will  tell  me  she  acts  in  this 
manner,  because  it  would  be  unamiable  and 
ungenerous  to  do  otherwise.  To  which  I 
answer,  If  it  be  unamiable  and  ungenerous 
to  the  lover,  how  much  more  so  must  it  be  to 
the  husband  7  I  find  no  fault  with  the  sweet- 
ness, the  irresistible  charm  of  her  behavior 
before  marriage.  It  is  no  more  than  we 
ought  to  practise  towards  those  whose  hap- 
piness is  bound  up  with  ours.  The  falling 
off  afterwards,  is  what  I  regard  as  so  much 
to  be  deplored  in  the  character  of  woman ; 
for  wherever  this  is  observed,  it  seems  to  indi- 
cate that  her  mind  has  been  low  enough  to 
be  influenced  by  a  desire  of  establishing  her- 
self in  an  eligible  home,  and  escaping  the 
stigma  foolishly  attached  to  the  situation  of 
an  old  maid. 

I  have  devoted  an  earlier  chapter  in  this 
work  to  the  consideration  of  dress  and  man- 
ners ;  but  I  have  omitted  one  of  the  most 
striking  points  of  view  in  which  these  sub- 
jects can  be  regarded, — the  different  charac- 
ters they  sometimes  assume  before,  and  after, 
marriage. 

When  a  young  lady  dresses  with  a  view 
to  general  approbation,  she  is  studioualy  so- 
licitous to  observe,  what  she  believes  to  be, 


82 


DOMESTIC  HABITS  OF 


the  rules  of  good  taste  ;  and  more  especially, 
if  a  gentleman,  whose  favorable  opinion  she 
values,  evinces  any  decided  symptoms  of 
becoming  her  admirer.  She  then  meets  him 
with  her  hair  arranged  in  the  most  becoming 
style;  with  the  neat  shoe,  and  pure-white 
gloves,  which  she  has  heard  him  commend 
in  others;  with  the  pale  scarf,  the  quiet-color- 
ed  robe,  and  with  the  general  aspect  of  her 
costume  accommodated  to  his  taste.  He  can- 
not but  observe  this  regard  to  his  wishes, 
and  he  notes  it  down  as  a  proof  of  amiable 
temperament,  as  well  as  sympathy  of  ha- 
bitual  feeling.  Auguring  well  for  his  future 
happiness  with  a  woman,  who  even  in  mat- 
ters of  such  trifling  moment  is  willing  to 
make  his  wish  her  law,  he  prevails  upon  her 
at  last  to  crown  that  happiness  by  the  be- 
stowment  of  her  hand. 

In  the  course  of  three  years,  we  look  in 
upon  this  couple  in  the  home  they  are  shar- 
ing together.  We  suppose  the  lady  to  be 
the  same,  yet  cannot  feel  quite  sure,  her 
whole  appearance  is  so  changed.  The  hair 
that  used  to  be  so  carefully  braided,  or  so 
gracefully  curled,  is  now  allowed  to  wander 
in  dishevelled  tresses,  or  swept  away  from 
a  brow,  whose  defects  it  was  wont  to  cover. 
There  is  a  forlornness  in  her  whole  appear- 
ance, as  if  she  had  not,  as  formerly,  any 
worthy  object  for  which  to  study  these  sec- 
ondary points  of  beauty  ;  and  we  inwardly 
exclaim,  How  the  taste  of  her  husband  must 
have  changed,  to  allow  him  to  be  pleased 
with  what  is  so  entirely  the  opposite  of  his 
original  choice!  On  a  second  observation, 
however,  we  ask  whether  he  actually  is 
pleased,  for  there  is  nothing  like  satisfaction 
in  the  look  with  which  he  turns  away  from 
the  unbecoming  cap,  the  soiled  kerchief,  and 
the  neglected  aspect  of  the  partner  of  his 
life. 

If  married  women,  who  allow  themselves 
to  fall  into  that  state  of  moral  degradation, 
which  such  an  appearance  indicates,  feel 
pained  at  symptoms  of  estrangement  in  their 
husbands'  affections,  they  must  at  least  be 
satisfied  to  endure  the  consequences  of  their 
own  want  of  consideration,  without  sympa- 


thy or  commiseration.  They  ma}',  perhaps, 
feel  disposed  to  say  their  punishment  is  too 
severe  for  such  a  fault  They  love  their 
husbands  as  faithfully  as  ever,  and  expected 
from  them  a  love  that  would  have  been  more 
faithful  in  return,  than  to  be  shaken  by  any 
change  in  mere  personal  appearance.  But 
let  me  tell  them,  that  the  change  which  owes 
its  existence  to  our  own  fault,  has  a  totally 
different  effect  upon  the  feelings  of  a  friend, 
from  that  which  is  the  consequence  of  our 
misfortune  ;  and  one  of  the  most  bitter  and 
repulsive  thoughts  that  can  be  made  to  rankle 
in  a  husband's  bosom,  is,  that  his  wife  should 
only  have  deemed  it  necessary  to  charm  his 
eye,  until  she  had  obtained  his  hand ;  and 
that,  through  the  whole  of  his  after  life  he 
must  look  in  vain  for  the  exercise  of  that 
kind  consideration  in  consulting  his  tastes 
and  wishes,  that  used  to  lend  so  sweet  a 
charm  to  the  season  of  youthful  intercourse. 

It  is  a  subject  well  calculated  to  inspire  the 
most  serious  regret,  that  men  should  practise 
throughout  the  season  of  courtship,  that  sys- 
tem of  indiscriminate  flattery  which  lulls  the 
better  judgment  of  a  woman  into  a  belief 
that  she  must  of  necessity  be  delightful  to 
him — delightful,  faults  and  all — nay,  what  is 
infinitely  worse  than  this,  into  a  secret  suspi- 
cion, that  the  faults  which  her  female  friends 
have  been  accustomed  to  point  out,  have  no 
existence  in  reality,  and  that  to  one  who 
knows  and  loves  her  better,  she  must  appear 
in  her  naturally  amiable  and  attractive  char- 
acter. 

Could  she  be  persuaded,  on  that  import- 
ant day,  when  she  is  led  home  from  the 
altar,  adorned,  attended  upon,  and  almost 
worshipped — could  she  be  persuaded  to  cast 
one  impartial  glance  into  her  own  heart,  she 
would  see  that  the  treasure  she  was  bestow- 
ing, had  many  drawbacks  from  its  value, 
and  that  all  the  happiness  it  was  in  her  pow- 
er to  confer,  must  necessarily,  from  the 
nature  of  that  heart,  be  accompanied  with 
some  alloy. 

"Alas!"  she  would  say,  after  this  exami- 
nation, "  he  knows  me  not.  Time  will  reveal 
to  him  my  secretly  cherished  faults."  And 


THE  WOMEN  OF  ENGLAND. 


63 


when  this  conviction  was  confirmed  through 
the  days  and  years  of  her  after  life,  she 
would  esteem  it  but  a  small  sacrifice  of  time 
and  patience  to  endeavor  to  render  herself 
personally  attractive  to  him.  Nay,  so  grate- 
ful would  she  feel  for  his  charitable  forgive- 
ness, that  when  the  evil  dispositions  inherent 
in  her  nature  were  thrown  into  more  glaring 
light,  she  would  esteem  it  a  privilege  to  be 
able  by  the  simplest  means  to  convince  him, 
that,  with  all  her  faults,  she  was  not  so  guilty 
of  a  disregard  to  his  wishes,  as  to  refuse  in 
these  minor  points  to  conform  her  habits  to 
his  taste. 

Many  of  the  remarks  into  which  I  have 
been  led  by  a  consideration  of  the  subject  of 
dress,  are  equally  applicable  to  that  of  man- 
ner, as  relates  to  its  connection  with  social 
and  domestic  happiness  before  and  after 
marriage.  We  are  all  aware  that  neither 
beauty,  nor  personal  adornment,  nor  the 
most  brilliant  conversation,  can  be  rendered 
altogether  charming  to  any  individual,  with- 
out the  accompaniment  of  a  peculiar  kind  of 
manner,  by  which  that  individual  is  made  to 
feel  that  he  partakes  in  the  pleasant  thoughts 
and  kind  feelings  of  the  party  whose  object 
it  is  to  please. 

Women  who  possess  the  tact  to  know  ex- 
actly how  to  give  pleasure,  are  peculiarly 
skilled  in  those  earnest  looks,  and  cheerful 
smiles,  and  animated  responses,  which  con- 
stitute more  than  half  the  charm  of  society. 
We  sometimes  see,  in  social  evening  circles, 
the  countenance  of  an  intelligent  young  lady 
lighted  up  with  such  a  look  of  deep  and 
glowing  interest  as  to  render  her  perfectly 
beautiful,  during  the  time  she  is  addressed 
by  a  distinguished  friend,  or  even  an  attract- 
ive stranger. 

I  will  not  say  that  the  same  expression  is 
not  always  worn  by  the  same  individual  at 
the  domestic  hearth,  when  she  listens  to  the 
conversation  of  her  husband.  I  will  not  so 
far  libel  my  countrywomen,  because  I  know 
that  there  are  noble  and  admirable  instances 
of  women  who  are  too  diffident  and  too 
simple-hearted  to  study  how  to  shine  in 
public,  who  yet,  from  the  intensity  of  their 


own  feelings,  the  brilliance  of  their  own 
powers  of  perception,  and  the  deep  delight 
of  listening  to  the  gentle  tones  of  a  beloved 
voice,  when  it  speaks  at  once  to  their  under- 
standing and  their  hearts, — I  know  that  such 
women  do  wear  an  aspect  of  almost  spiritual 
beauty,  and  speak  and  act  with  an  almost 
superhuman  grace,  when  no  eye  beholds 
them  but  that  which  is  most  familiar,  and 
which  is  destined  to  look  upon  the  same 
path  of  life  with  theirs. 

After  acknowledging  these  instances,  I 
must  suppose  a  case ;  and  for  the  sake  of 
argument  imagine  what  would  be  the  feel- 
ings of  a  husband,  who,  in  mixed  society, 
should  see  his  wife  the  centre  of  an  anima- 
ted group — pleased  herself,  and  giving  pleas- 
ure to  all  around  her — the  expression  of 
intense  interest  depicted  on  her  countenance, 
and  mingled  with  an  apprehension  so  lively 
and  vivid,  as  almost  to  amount  to  presenti- 
ment of  every  probable  turn  in  the  dis- 
course ;  her  eyes  lighted  up  with  animation, 
and  her  cheeks  dimpled  over  with  the  play 
of  sunny  smiles — what  would  be  the  feelings 
of  a  husband  who  should  have  marked  all 
this,  and  when  at  his  own  fireside  he  felt 
the  want  of  pleasant  converse  to  beguile  the 
winter's  evening  of  its  length,  should  be  an- 
swered by  that  peculiar  tone  of  voice,  that 
depression  of  countenance,  and  that  forbid- 
ding manner,  which  are  more  powerful  in 
imposing  silence  than  the  most  imperative 
command  7 

In  fact,  there  is  a  manner  all-powerful  in 
its  influence  upon  domestic  happiness,  in 
which  there  seems  to  be  imbodied  a  spirit  of 
evil  too  subtile  for  detection,  and  too  indefi- 
nite to  be  described  by  any  name.  It  is  not 
precisely  a  sullen  manner,  nor,  in  its  strictest 
sense,  a  repulsive  manner ;  for  the  individu- 
al who  adopts  it  may  be  perfectly  civil  all 
the  while.  It  does  not  consist  in  pointed 
insult,  or,  indeed,  in  any  thing  pointed.  It 
conveys  no  reproach,  nor  suffers  the  party 
upon  whom  it  operates  to  suppose  that  re- 
dress is  the  thing  desired.  It  invites  no 
explanation,  and  makes  no  complaint.  Its 
only  visible  characteristic  is,  that  the  eye  is 


DOMESTIC  HABITS  OF 


never  raised  to  gaze  upon  its  object,  but  in- 
variably directed  past  it,  as  if  that  object  had 
no  ubiquity — in  short,  had  no  existence,  and 
was  not  required  to  have  any. 

This  is  the  manner  I  should  describe  as 
most  expressive  of  natural  antipathy  without 
the  energy  of  active  dislike ;  and  yet  this 
manner,  as  before  stated,  is  so  potent  in  its 
influence,  that  it  seems  to  lay,  as  it  were,  an 
unseen  axe  at  the  root  of  all  domestic  confi- 
dence ;  and  difficult  as  it  must  necessarily 
be,  for  a  woman  to  maintain  this  manner, 
there  have  been  instances  in  which  it  has 
destroyed  a  husband's  peace,  without  afford- 
ing him  even  the  satisfaction  of  any  definite 
cause  of  complaint  There  are  degrees  of 
the  same  manner  practised  every  day  in  all 
classes  of  society,  but  never  without  a  bane- 
ful effect,  in  poisoning  our  kindly  feelings, 
and  decreasing  the  sum  of  human  happi- 


We  are  all  too  much  disposed  to  put  on 
what  I  would  describe  as  company  manners. 
Not  only  are  our  best  dresses  reserved  for  our 
visitors,  but  our  best  behavior  too.  I  have 
often  been  struck  with  the  bland  smiles  that 
have  been  put  on  in  welcoming  guests,  and 
the  appearance  of  extreme  interest  with 
which  such  guests  have  been  listened  to ; 
when,  five  minutes  after  their  departure,  the 
same  subject,  having  been  taken  up  by  some 
unfortunate  member  of  the  family,  no  inter- 
est whatever  has  been  elicited,  no  smile 
awakened,  and  scarcely  so  much  as  a  pa- 
tient and  respectful  answer  drawn  forth.  I 
have  observed,  also,  with  what  forbearance 
the  absurdities  of  a  stranger  have  been  en- 
dured :  the  twice-told  tale,  when  begun  again 
in  company,  has  apparently  been  as  fresh 
and  entertaining  as  the  first  time  it  was 
heard.  The  folly  of  ignorance  has  then  had 
no  power  to  disgust,  nor  the  impertinence  of 
curiosity  to  offend. 

When  I  have  marked  all  this,  I  have 
thought,  If  we  could  but  carry  away  our 
company-smiles,  to  the  home  fireside,  speak 
always  in  the  gentle  and  persuasive  tones 
made  use  of  in  the  evening  party,  and  move 
along  the  domestic  walk  with  that  suavity  of 


manner  which  characterizes  our  intercourse 
with  what  is  called  society, — how  pleasant 
would  those  homes  become  to  the  friends 
who  look  for  their  hours  of  refreshment  and 
relaxation  there ;  and  how  seldom  should 
we  have  to  complain  of  our  companionship 
being  neglected  for  that  of  more  brilliant  cir- 
cles and  more  interesting  scenes  ! 

In  writing  on  the  subject  of  consideration 
and  kindness  before  and  after  marriage,  I 
purposely  confined  my  remarks  to  a  very 
slight  and  superficial  view  of  the  subject. 
The  world  that  lies  beyond,  I  cannot  regard 
as  within  the  province  of  my  pen — I  might 
almost  say,  within  the  province  of  any  pen : 
for  such  is  the  difference  in  human  character, 
and  in  the  circumstances  by  which  character 
is  developed,  that  it  would  scarcely  be  possi- 
ble to  speak  definitely  of  a  line  of  conduct  by 
which  the  lives  of  any  two  married  women 
could  properly  be  regulated,  because  such 
conduct  must  bear  strict  reference  to  the 
habits  and  temperament  of  the  husband, 
whose  peculiarities  of  character  would  have 
to  be  taken  into  account 

I  must  therefore  Be  satisfied  to  recommend 
this  wide  and  important  field  of  contempla- 
tion to  the  serious  attention  and  earnest  soli- 
citude of  my  countrywomen ;  reminding  them, 
only,  before  we  leave  this  subject,  that  if,  in 
the  first  instance,  they  are  induced  by  selfish 
feeling  to  consult  their  immediate  interest  or 
convenience,  they  are,  in  a  secondary  man- 
ner, undermining  their  own  happiness  by  fail- 
ing t6  consult  that  of  the  being  whose  destiny 
is  linked  with  theirs. 

What  pen  can  describe  the  wretchedness 
of  that  woman,  who  finds  herself  doomed  to 
live  unloved  ;  and  to  whom  can  she  look  for 
confidence  and  affection,  if  shut  out  from  the 
natural  sources  of  enjoyment  at  home  ? — 
There  is  no  loneliness — there  can  be  none — 
in  all  the  waste  or  peopled  deserts  of  this 
world,  bearing  the  slightest  comparison  with 
that  of  an  unloved  wife.  She  stands  amidst 
her  family  like  a  living  statue  among  the 
marble  memorials  of  the  dead — instinct  with 
life,  yet  paralyzed  with  death — the  burning 
tide  of  natural  feeling  circling  round  her 


THE  WOMEN  OF  ENGLAND. 


85 


heart — the  thousand  channels  frozen,  through 
which  that  feeling  ought  to  flow. 

So  pitiable,  so  utterly  destitute  of  consola- 
tion is  this  state,  to  which  many  women  have 
reduced  themselves  by  mere  carelessness  of 
the  common  and  familiar  means  of  giving 
pleasure,  that  I  must  be  pardoned  for  writing 
on  this  subject  with  more  earnestness  than 
the  minuteness  of  its  detail  would  seem  to 
warrant.  We  may  set  off  in  life  with  high 
notions  of  loving,  and  of  being  loved,  in  exact 
proportion  to  meritorious  desert,  as  exempli- 
fied in  great  and  noble  deeds.  But  on  a 
closer  and  more  experimental  view  of  human 
life,  we  find  that  affection  is  more  dependent 
upon  the  minutiae  of  every-day  existence  ; 
and  that  there  is  a  greater  sum  of  affection 
really  lost  by  filtering  away  through  the  fail- 
ure of  seeming  trifles,  than  by  the  shock  of 
great  events. 

We  are  apt  also  to  deceive  ourselves  with 
regard  to  the  revival  of  affection  after  its  de- 
cay. Much  may  be  done  to  restore  equanim- 
ity of  mind,  to  obtain  forgiveness,  and  to  be 
reinstated  in  esteem;  but  I  am  inclined  to 
think,  that  when  once  the  bloom  of  love  is 
gone — when  it  has  been  brushed  away  by  too 
rude  or  too  careless  a  hand,  it  would  be  as 
vain  to  attempt  to  restore  it,  as  to  raise  again 
the  blighted  flower,  or  give  wings  to  the  but- 
terfly which  the  storm  had  beaten  down. 

How  important  is  it,  then,  that  women 
should  guard,  with  the  most  scrupulous  at- 
tention, this  treasure  of  their  hearts, — this 
blessing  of  their  homes ;  and  since  we  are  so 
constituted,  that  trifles  make  the  sum  of  hu- 
man happiness,  that  they  should  lose  no  op- 
portunity of  turning  these  trifles  to  the  best 
account ! 

Besides  these  considerations,  there  is  one 
awful  and  alarming  fact  connected  with  this 
subject,  which  ought  to  be  indelibly  impress- 
ed upon  our  minds ;  it  is,  that  we  have  but 
a  short  time,  it  may  be  but  a  very  short  time, 
allowed  us  for  promoting  the  comfort  or  the 
happiness  of  our  fellow-creatures.  Even  if 
we  ourselves  are  spared  to  reach  the  widest 
range  of  human  existence,  how  few  of  those 
we  love  will  number  half  that  length  of  years ! 


Even  the  hand  that  is  clasped  in  ours,  the 
eyes  that  reflect  the  intelligence  of  our  souls, 
and  the  heart  that  beats  an  echo  to  every 
pulse  we  feel,  may  be  cold  and  motionless 
before  to-morrow's  sun  has  set ! 

Were  the  secrets  of  every  human  bosom 
laid  open,  I  believe  we  should  behold  no 
darker  passage  in  the  page  of  experience, 
than  that  which  has  noted  down  our  want 
of  kindness  and  consideration  to  those  who 
are  gone  before  us  to  another  world. 

When  we  realize  the  agonizing  sensation 
of  bending  over  the  feeble  frame  of  a  beloved 
friend,  when  the  mortal  conflict  is  approach- 
ing, and  the  fluttering  spirit  is  about  to  leave 
its  earthly  tenement ;  and  looking  back  upon 
a  long,  dark  past,  all  blotted  over  with  in- 
stances of  our  unkindness  or  neglect,  and 
forward  unto  that  little  span  of  life,  into  which 
we  would  fain  concentrate  the  deep  affection, 
that,  in  spite  of  inconsistencies  in  our  past 
conduct,  has  all  the  while  been  cherished  in 
our  hearts, — with  what  impassioned  earnest- 
ness would  we  arrest  the  pale  messenger  in 
his  career,  and  stay  the  wings  of  time,  and 
call  upon  the  impatient  spirit  to  return,  to 
see,  and  feel,  and  understand  our  love  ! 

Perhaps  we  have  been  negligent  in  formei 
seasons  of  bodily  affliction  ;  have  not  listened 
patiently  to  the  outpouring  of  natural  feel- 
ing, and  have  held  ourselves  excused  from 
attendance  in  the  siek-chamber ;  and  there 
has  gone  forth  that  awful  sentence,  "  It  is  the 
last  time !" — the  last  time  we  can  offer  the 
cordial  draught,  or  smooth  the  restless  pillow 
or  bathe  the  feverish  brow  !  And  now,  though 
we  would  search  all  the  treasures  of  the  earth 
for  healing  medicine,  and  rob  ourselves  of 
sleep,  and  rest,  and  sustenance,  to  purchase 
for  the  sufferer  one  hour  of  quiet  slumber, 
and  pour  out  tears  upon  that  aching  brow, 
until  its  burning  heat  was  quenched ; — it  is 
in  vain,  for  the  eye  is  glazed,  the  lips  are 
paralyzed,  the  head  begins  to  droop,  and  ex- 
piring nature  tells  us  it  is  all  loo  late  ! 

Perhaps  we  have  not  been  sympathizing, 
kind,  or  tender,  in  those  by-gone  years  of 
familiar  confidence,  when  we  were  called 
upon  to  share  the  burdens  of  a  weary  bosom, 


H 


DOMESTIC  HABITS  OF 


whose  inner  feelings  were  revealed  to  us,  and 
us  alone.  Yes,  we  can  remember,  in  the  sun- 
ny days  of  youth,  and  through  the  trials  of 
maturer  life,  when  the  appeals  of  affection 
were  answered  with  fretfulness  or  captious 
spleen,  when  estrangement  followed,  and  we 
could  not,  if  we  had  desired  it,  then  draw 
back  the  love  we  had  repulsed.  And  now 
we  hear  again  that  awful  sentence — "It  is  the 
last  time !" — the  last  time  we  can  ever  weep 
upon  that  bosom,  or  lay  our  hand  upon  that 
head,  or  press  a  fond,  fond  kiss  upon  those 
closing  lips.  Fain  would  we  then  throw  open 
the  floodgates  of  our  hidden  feeling,  and  pour 
forth  words  of  more  than  tenderness.  Alas  ! 
the  once  wished-for  tide  would  flow,  like  the 
rising  surf  around  a  shattered  wreck — too 
late! 

Perhaps  we  have  been  guilty  of  a  deeper 
sin  against  our  heavenly  Father,  and  the  hu- 
man family  whose  happiness  he  has  in  some 
measure  committed  to  our  trust  And,  oh  ! 
let  the  young  ask  diligently  of  the  more  ex- 
perienced, how  they  can  escape  the  aching 
consciousness  that  may  pursue  them  to  the 
grave,  and  only  then  commence  the  reality 
of  its  eternal  torment — the  consciousness  of 
having  wasted  all  our  influence,  and  neglect- 
ed all  our  means  of  assisting  those  who  were 
associated  with  us  by  the  closest  ties,  in  pre- 
paring for  another  and  a  better  world. 

Perhaps  they  once  sought  our  society  for 
the  benefit  of  spiritual  communion.  Perhaps 
they  would  have  consulted  us  in  cases  of 
moral  difficulty,  had  we  been  more  gracious 
and  conciliating.  Perhaps  we  have  treated 
lightly  the  serious  scruples  they  have  laid  be- 
fore us,  or,  what  is  still  more  probable,  per- 
haps the  whole  tenor  of  our  inconsistent  lives 
has  been  the  means  of  drawing  them  away 
from  the  altar,  on  which  they  saw  such  un- 
holy incense  burning.  And  now,  "  it  is  the 
last  time  !" — the  last  time  we  can  ever  speak 
to  them  of  eternity,  of  the  state  of  their  trem- 
bling souls  before  the  eye  of  a  just  and  holy 
God,  or  raise  their  fainting  hopes  to  the 
mercy  still  offered  to  their  acceptance,  through 
Him  who  is  able  to  save  to  the  uttermost 
Oh!  for  the  trumpet  of  an  archangel,  to 


awake  them  from  the  increasing  torpor  of 
bodily  and  spiritual  death  !  Oh !  for  a  voice 
that  would  imbody,  in  one  deep,  awful,  and 
tremendous  word,  all — all  for  which  our 
wasted  life  was  insufficient!  It  is  in  vain 
that  we  would  call  upon  the  attributes  of  na- 
ture and  of  Deity  to  aid  us.  They  are  gone ! 
It  was  the  final  struggle ;  and  never  more 
will  that  pale  marble  form  be  roused  to  life 
by  words  of  hope  or  consolation.  They  are 
gone.  The  portals  of  eternity  are  closed — It 
is  too  late ! 

Let  it  be  a  subject  of  grateful  acknowledg- 
ment with  the  young,  that  to  them  this  fear- 
ful sentence  has  not  yet  gone  forth — that  op- 
portunity may  still  be  offered  them  to  redeem 
the  time.  They  know  not,  however,  how 
much  of  this  time  remains  at  their  disposal ; 
and  it  might  occasionally  be  some  assistance 
to  them  in  their  duties,  would  they  cultivate 
the  habit  of  thinking,  not  only  of  their  own 
death,  but  of  the  death  of  their  companions. 

There  are  few  subjects  more  calculated  for 
solemn  and  affecting  thought,  than  the  fact 
that  we  can  scarcely  meet  a  blooming  circle 
around  a  cheerful  hearth,  but  one  individual 
at  least,  in  that  circle,  will  be  cherishing  in 
her  bosom  the  seeds  of  some  fatal  malady. 

It  is  recorded  of  the  Egyptians,  that  among 
their  ancient  customs  they  endeavored  to 
preserve  the  salutary  remembrance  that  they 
were  liable  to  death,  by  placing  at  their  festal 
boards,  a  human  skeleton ;  so  that  while 
they  feasted,  and  enjoyed  the  luxuries  of  this 
life,  they  should  find  it  impossible  to  beguile 
themselves  into  a  belief  in  its  perpetual  dura- 
tion. 

It  is  not  necessary  that  we  should  resort 
to  means  so  unnatural  and  repulsive ;  though 
the  end  is  still  more  desirable  for  us,  who  are 
trusting  in  a  better  hope,  to  keep  in  view. 
Neither  is  it  necessary  that  the  idea  should 
be  invested  with  melancholy,  and  associated 
with  depression.  It  is  but  looking  at  the 
truth.  And  let  us  deceive  ourselves  as  we 
may,  the  green  church-yard  with  its  freshly 
covered  graves — the  passing-bell — the  slowly- 
moving  hearse — the  shutters  closed  upon  the 
apartment  where  the  sound  of  merriment 


THE  WOMEN  OF  ENGLAND. 


87 


was  lately  heard — the  visitations  of  disease 
within  our  homes — even  the  hectic  flush  of 
beauty — all  remind  us  that  the  portion  of  time 
allotted  for  the  exercise  of  kindly  feeling  to- 
wards our  fellow-creatures,  is  fleeting  fast 
away ;  and  that  to-day,  if  ever,  we  must 
prove  to  the  great  Shepherd  of  the  Chris- 
tian fold,  that  we  are  not  regardless  of  that 
memorable  injunction — By  this  shall  all  men 
know  that  ye  are  my  disciples,  If  ye  have  love 
one  to  another. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

SOCIAL  INTERCOURSE  OF  THE  WOMEN  OF  ENG- 
LAND  CAPRICE — AFFECTATION — LOVE  OF  AD- 
MIRATION. 

THE  higher  admiration  we  bestow  upon 
the  nature  and  attributes  of  any  subject  of 
contemplation,  the  more  painful  and  acute  is 
our  perception  of  its  defects.  And  thus 
when  we  think  of  woman  in  her  most  eleva- 
ted character,  consider  the  extent  of  her  ca- 
pabilities, and  her  •wonderful  and  almost  un- 
failing power  of  being  great  on  great  occa- 
sions, we  are  the  more  disposed  to  regret 
that  she  has  a  power  equally  unlimited,  of 
making  herself  little  ;  and  that,  when  indo- 
lence or  selfishness  is  allowed  to  prevail  over 
her  better  feelings,  this  power  is  often  exer- 
cised to  the  annoyance  of  society,  and  to  her 
own  disgrace. 

Those  who  understand  the  construction 
of  woman's  mind,  however,  will  find  some 
excuse  for  this,  in  the  natural  versatility  of 
her  mental  faculties,  in  the  multiplicity  of  her 
floating  ideas,  in  the  play  of  her  fancy,  and 
in  the  constant  overflow  of  her  feelings, 
which  must  expend  themselves  upon  some 
object,  either  worthy  or  unworthy ;  and 
which  consequently  demand  the  utmost  at- 
tention to  what  is  really  important,  in  order 
that  this  waste  of  energy,  of  feeling,  and 
emotion,  may  be  avoided. 

The  word  caprice,  in  its  familiar  accepta- 
tion, is  one  of  very  indefinite  signification.  I 


shall  endeavor  to  confine  my  use  of  it  to 
those  cases  in  which  the  whim  of  the  mo- 
ment is  made  the  rule  of  action,  without  any 
reference  to  right  reason,  or  even  to  the 
gratification  or  annoyance  of  others  ;  and  I 
shall  endeavor  to  show,  that  with  regard  to 
this  feminine  fault,  as  well  as  many  others, 
women  are  not  fairly  dealt  with  by  society. 

How  often  do  WG  see,  for  instance,  a  beau- 
tiful and  fascinating  girl  expressing  the  most 
absurd  antipathies,  or  sympathies,  and  acting 
in  the  most  self-willed  and  irrational  manner ; 
in  short,  performing  a  part,  which,  in  a  plain 
woman,  would  be  regarded  not  only  as  repul- 
sive, but  unamiable  in  the  utmost  degree! 
yet  because  she  is  beautiful,  l|er  admirers  ap- 
pear to  think  all  these  little  freaks  of  fancy 
highly  becoming,  and  captivating  in  the  ex- 
treme. If  she  chooses  to  find  fault  with 
what  all  the  rest  of  the  company  are  admir- 
ing— how  delightfully  peculiar  are  her  tastes ! 
If  she  will  walk  out  when  others  are  not  dis- 
posed for  walking — what  obsequious  attend- 
ants she  immediately  finds,  all  ready  to  say 
the  evening  is  fine,  the  air  inviting,  and  the 
general  aspect  of  nature  exactly  what  she 
chooses  it  should  be  !  If  she  persists  in  re- 
fusing to  play  a  favorite  air — what  a  dear  ca- 
pricious creature  she  always  is !  and  in  this, 
as  well  as  other  whims,  she  must  be  humor- 
ed to  the  extent  of  her  selfishness. 

I  will  not  pretend  to  say  that  beauty  alone 
can  command  this  influence,  though  it  un- 
questionably has  a  power  beyond  all  calcula- 
tion. The  being  who  thus  assumes  the  right 
to  tyrannize,  must  have  obtained  the  suffrages 
of  society  by  the  exercise  of  some  particular 
powers  of  fascination,  which  she  wants  the 
judgment  and  good  feeling  to  use  for  better 
purposes. 

We  have  seen  her,  then,  a  sort  of  idol  in 
society,  the  centre  of  an  admiring  circle,  en- 
dowed with  the  royal  privilege  of  incapability 
of  doing  wrong.  We  have  seen  her  admired, 
apparently  beloved  ;  and  we  turn  to  the  little 
coteries  of  dissentients  who  are  sure  to  be 
formed  in  all  companies  where  a  being  of  this 
description  is  found.  Among  these  we  find 
that  her  character  is  treated,  not  with  justice, 


SOCIAL  INTERCOURSE  OF 


though  that  had  been  enough,  but  with  the 
sharp  inspection  of  keen  and  envious  eyes  ; 
and  we  are  soon  convinced,  that  if  in  public 
she  is  raised  to  the  distinction  of  an  idol,  she 
is  in  private  most  unscrupulously  deprived  of 
the  honors  she  was  but  too  willing  to  assume. 

I  speak  not  of  this  instance,  in  order  to 
bring  forward  the  want  of  charity  and  kindly 
feeling  prevailing  in  the  world.  I  simply 
state  that  such  things  are, — in  order  to  show 
that  the  deference  paid  to  the  caprices  of 
women  by  a  few  partial  admirers,  is  no  real 
test  of  the  favor  they  obtain  in  general  so- 
ciety. And  if,  in  such  instances  where  youth 
and  beauty  cast  their  lovely  mantle  over 
every  defect,  woman's  faults  are  still  brought 
to  light,  what  must  be  her  situation — what 
her  treatment  by  the  world,  where  she  has 
nothing  of  this  kind  to  palliate  her  weakness, 
or  recommend  her  to  the  charity  and  forbear- 
ance of  her  fellow-creatures  7 

Caprice,  like  many  other  feminine  faults, 
appears  almost  too  trifling  in  its  minutiae — 
too  insignificant  in  its  detail,  to  deserve  our 
serious  condemnation ;  yet,  if  caprice  has 
the  power  to  make  enemies,  and  to  destroy 
happiness,  it  ought  not  to  be  regarded  as  un- 
important in  itself.  With  regard  to  many 
other  subjects  of  consideration  connected 
with  the  virtues  or  the  errors  of  woman,  we 
have  had  to  observe,  that  each  individual  act 
may  be  almost  beneath  our  notice  in  itself, 
and  yet  may  form  a  part  of  such  a  whole,  as 
the  utmost  capabilities  of  human  intellect 
would  be  unable  to  treat  with  justice  and  ef- 
fect 

The  case  is  precisely  the  same  with  femi- 
nine caprice.  It  is  but  a  slight  deviation 
either  from  sense  or  propriety,  to  choose  to 
differ  from  the  majority  of  opinions,  to  choose 
to  do,  and  to  make  others  do,  what  is  not 
agreeable  to  them,  or  to  refuse  to  do  wliat 
would  give  them  pleasure.  But,  when  this 
mode  of  conduct  becomes  habitual,  when 
beauty  fades,  and  the  idol  of  society  is  cast 
into  the  shade,  when  disappointment  irritates 
the  temper,  and  "  sickness  rends  the  brow," 
and  grief  sits  heavily  upon  the  soul — in  these 
seasons  of  nature's  weakness,  when  woman's 


trembling  heart  is  apt  to  sink  within  her,  to 
what  loneliness  and  bitterness  of  experience 
must  she  be  consigned,  if  her  own  indulgence 
of  caprice  has  driven  from  her  all  the  friends 
who  might  have  administered  to  her  conso- 
lation in  this  hour  of  need  ! 

This  view  of  the  subject,  however,  she  is 
certainly  at  liberty  to  take,  and  counting  the 
cost,  to  indulge  her  momentary  wishes  at  the 
expense  of  her  future  peace.  The  question 
of  most  serious  importance,  is,  how  far  we 
are  justified  in  trifling  with  the  happiness, 
the  comfort,  or  even  the  convenience  of  others, 
for  the  sake  of  indulging  our  own  caprices  ? 

I  have  before  stated,  that  in  acting  from 
caprice,  we  act  without  reference  to  common 
sense,  or  right  feeling.  If,  therefore,  a  wo- 
man chooses  to  be  capricious,  there  is  no  help 
for  it  Argument  has  no  power  to  convince 
her  that  she  is  wrong,  and  opposition  only 
strengthens  her  determination :  no  matter 
how  many  are  made  to  suffer  annoyance 
from  her  folly,  or  grief  from  her  perverse- 
ness.  It  is  her  choice  to  be  capricious,  and 
they  must  abide  by  the  consequences.  Thus 
she  exemplifies — it  may  be  said  in  actions 
extremely  minute  and  unimportant — but  still 
she  does  exemplify,  how  much  mischief  may 
be  done  by  a  weak  judgment,  a  selfish  tem- 
per, and  an  unenlightened  mind. 

The  domestic  habits  and  social  intercourse 
of  the  women  of  England,  are  peculiarly 
favorable  to  the  counteraction  of  the  natural 
tendency  to  caprice  in  the  female  character, 
because  they  afford  a  supply  of  constant  oc- 
cupation, and  invest  that  occupation  with 
the  dignity  of  moral  duty.  When,  therefore, 
we  find  individuals  acting  from  caprice,  in 
the  middle  classes  of  English  society,  we 
know  that  it  exists  in  spite  of  circumstances; 
and  we  consequently  regard  with  proportion- 
ate condemnation,  those  who  are  so  far  defi- 
cient in  good  taste  and  good  feeling,  as  to 
prefer  such  a  mode  of  exhibiting  their  follies 
to  the  world. 

It  might  require  some  degree  of  philoso- 
phical examination,  accurately  to  define  the 
nature  and  origin  of  caprice  ;  yet  so  far  as 
I  have  been  able  to  ascertain  by  observations 


THE  WOMEN  OF  ENGLAND. 


89 


upon  society  in  general,  I  should  be  inclined 
to  describe  it  as  arising  from  the  same  cause 
as  affectation  ;  and  both  to  owe  their  exist- 
ence to  a  desire  to  attract  attention,  or  a  belief 
that  attention  is  attracted  by  what  is  said  or 
done.  Caprice  refers  more  to  a  weak  and 
vain  desire  to  be  important ;  affectation,  to  a 
desire  to  make  ourselves  admired.  Both  are 
contemptible  in  the  extreme.  Yet  one  is  so 
powerful  in  provoking  the  temper,  the  other 
in  exciting  ridicule  and  disgust,  that  both  are 
worthy  of  our  careful  examination,  in  order 
that  we  may  detect  the  lurking  evil  wherever 
it  exists  in  our  own  conduct. 

Affectation  is  in  practice  a  species  of  mi- 
nute deception  ;  in  effect,  ap  alpable  mockery 
of  that  which  is  assumed.  I  am  aware  that 
it  is  often  the  accompaniment  of  extreme 
bashfulness  and  diffidence  of  self;  but  this 
is  seldom  or  never  the  case,  except  where 
there  is  a  secret,  yet  strong  desire,  if  it  were 
possible,  to  be  the  object  of  admiration  to 
others.  Along  with  affectation,  there  is  gen- 
erally a  prevailing  impression  of  being  the 
object  upon  which  all,  or  at  least  many,  eyes 
are  fixed.  For  who  would  be  at  the  trouble 
of  all  those  distortions  of  countenance,  in- 
flexions of  voice,  and  manceuvrings  of  body 
and  limb,  which  we  often  observe  in  compa- 
ny, did  they  not  believe  themselves  to  be 

"  The  observed  of  all  observers  ?" 

If  by  thinking  too  meanly  of  ourselves,  we 
are  overwhelmed  with  humiliation  in  public, 
and  tormented  with  dissatisfaction  in  private, 
it  is  clear  that  there  is  as  much  vanity  and 
selfishness  in  this  depreciation  of  our  own 
character,  as  in  the  more  exalted  and  com- 
fortable inflation  of  conceit.  The  only  differ- 
ence is, — in  one  case  we  are  piqued  and 
wounded  that  we  cannot  be  admired  ;  in  the 
other,  we  believe  ourselves  to  be  admired 
when  we  are  not. 

The  suffering  produced  by  this  kind  of 
vanity,  is  generally  accompanied  both  with 
affectation  and  bashfulness  ;  but  we  must 
not  suppose,  because  a  blush  suffuses  the 
countenance,  and  the  outstretched  hand  is 
seen  to  tremble,  that  the  individual  who  is 


guilty  of  this  breach  of  fashionable  indiffer- 
ence, is  necessarily  free  from  vanity,  or  guilt- 
less of  a  desire  to  be  admired. 

Those  who  have  travelled  much,  and  seen 
much  of  the  world,  are  generally  cured  both 
of  bashfulness  and  affectation,  by  one  of  these 
two  causes, — either  they  have  been  so  often 
in  company  without  making  any  impression, 
that  they  have  learned  of  how  little  import- 
ance it  is  to  society  in  what  manner  they  be- 
have, or  how  they  look  ;  or  they  have  learn- 
ed a  still  more  useful  lesson,  that  the  admira- 
tion of  man,  even  in  its  fullest  sense,  goes 
but  a  little  way  towards  satisfying  the  heart. 

The  affectation  most  frequently  detected 
in  the  behavior  of  women,  is  that  which 
arises  from  an  inordinate  desire  of  being 
agreeable.  A  certain  degree  of  this  desire  is, 
unquestionably,  of  great  service  in  preserving 
them  from  the  moral  degradation  which  I 
have  before  alluded  to,  as  attaching  to  per- 
sonal neglect — as  indicating  a  low  state  of 
mind  wherever  it  exists,  and  procuring  a  low 
degree  of  estimation  for  the  individual  who 
thus  allows  her  negligence  to  gain  the  ascen- 
dancy over  her  good  taste. 

On  the  other  hand,  what  may  with  pro- 
priety be  called  an  inordinate  desire  to  be 
admired,  when  it  takes  the  place  of  higher 
motives  and  principles  of  action,  is,  perhaps, 
a  more  fertile  source  both  of  folly  and  of  suf- 
fering than  any  other  which  operates  upon 
the  life  and  conduct  of  woman.  As  exhibit 
ed  through  the  single  medium  of  affectation, 
it  is  so  varied  in  its  character,  and  so  un- 
bounded in  its  sphere  of  operation,  that  to 
attempt  to  describe  it  in  detail  would  require 
volumes,  rather  than  pages ;  I  shall  therefore 
confine  my  remarks  to  that  species  of  affecta 
tion  which  is  the  most  prevalent  in  the  pres- 
ent day. 

As  the  peculiar  kind  of  merit  assumed  by 
the  hypocrite  is,  in  some  measure,  a  test  ol 
what  is  most  popular  and  most  approved  in 
society,  so  the  prevailing  affectation  of  the 
day  is  an  indication  of  the  taste  of  the  times 
— of  the  general  tone  of  public  feeling,  and 
of  the  tendency  of  private  habits.  That 
which  most  recommends  itself  to  the  accept- 


90 


SOCIAL  INTERCOURSE  OP 


.ance  and  adoption  of  the  young  ladies  of 
the  present  day,  is  an  affectation  of  refine- 
ment— not  refinement  of  feeling  as  relates  to 
the  means  possessed  by  every  human  being, 
of  increasing  pleasure  and  alleviating  pain, 
in  the  circle  of  friends  or  relatives  by  which 
they  are  surrounded  ;  but  refinement  of  self, 
so  that  the  individual  who  has  attained  to 
this  degree  of  elevation  shall  be  exempt  from 
all  personal  obligations,  particularly  such  as 
would  render  her  instrumental  in  the  perform- 
ance of  social  and  domestic  services  among 
her  fellow-creatures.  Women  who  affect 
this  kind  of  refinement,  are  extremely  fas- 
tidious in  all  that  relates  to  manual  employ- 
ment They  cannot  touch  the  coarse  material 
that  supplies  our  bodily  wants,  or  constitutes 
our  personal  comfort.  They  loathe  the  very 
mention  of  those  culinary  compounds,  which, 
nevertheless,  their  .fair  lips  condescend  to 
admit ;  and  they  shrink  with  horror  from  the 
vulgar  notion  that  the  old  grandmother-du- 
ties of  preparing  a  clean  hearth,  and  a  com- 
fortable fireside,  for  a  husband  or  a  brother, 
could  by  any  possibility  devolve  upon  them. 

For  this  kind  of  affectation,  however,  there 
is  some  excuse  in  our  natural  indolence ;  and 
in  the  exemption  it  procures  from  personal 
exertion ;  but  when  we  see  the  absolute  pains 
which  some  of  the  same  individuals  will  take 
to  make  themselves  appear  dependent,  use- 
less, and  wholly  inadequate  to  self-preserva- 
tion, we  are  startled  with  a  new  idea,  and 
entirely  at  a  loss  to  account  for  this  pheno- 
menon in  human  nature. 

It  is  with  difficulty  I  admit  the  belief  that 
women  are  in  reality  the  victims  of  all  those 
foolish  fears  with  which  they  profess  to  be 
annoyed,  and  with  which  they  unquestion- 
ably are  very  successful  in  annoying  others. , 
It  is  with  difficulty  I  admit  this  belief,  because 
I  see,  and  see  with  admiration,  that  some  of 
the  most  delicate  women,  the  most  sensitively 
alive  to  impression,  and  the  most  susceptible 
both  of  pleasure  and  pain,  can,  when  called 
upon  by  duty,  and  actuated  by  principle,  set 
all  these  idle  fears  aside,  and  dare  to  do  what 
man  would  almost  shrink  from.  I  cannot, 
therefore,  divest  myself  of  all  suspicion,  that 


a  little  of  this  feminine  timidity  is  sometimes 
assumed,  and  a  great  deal  of  it  encouraged, 
for  the  sake  of  effect — for  the  sake  of  making 
it  appear  to  society  that  the  individual  who 
acts  this  part  is  too  refined  to  have  ever  been 
accustomed  to  the  rough  usages  of  common 
life. 

I  say  this  with  all  charity,  and  with  much 
compassion  for  those  whose  bodily  and  men- 
tal conformation  does  really  render  them  the 
victims  of  causeless  fear  ;  and  when  we  see 
such  persons  endeavoring  to  subdue  their 
timidity,  ashamed  of  it  a?  a  weakness,  and 
especially  solicitous  for  it  not  to  interfere  with 
the  comfort  or  convenience  of  others,  they 
justly  claim,  not  only  our  sympathy,  but  our 
admiration.  It  is  the  display  of  terror  that  I 
would  speak  of  in  terms  which  can  scarcely 
be  too  contemptuous ;  the  becoming  start, 
the  modulated  shriek,  the  studied  appeal  for 
manly  protection,  and  all  that  elaboration  of 
feminine  delicacy  which  it  sometimes  ap- 
pears to  be  the  business  of  a  life  to  exhibit. 

Besides  this  kind  of  affectation,  I  will  men- 
tion another  species,  if  possible,  still  more 
unnaccountable  in  its  nature  and  cause.  It 
is  the  affectation  of  ignorance  respecting 
common  things.  It  is  by  no  means  unusual 
with  young  ladies  to  appear  to  plume  them- 
selves upon  not  knowing  how  any  familiar 
or  ordinary  thing  is  made  or  done.  They 
refuse  to  understand  any  thing  about  machi- 
nery, and  bring  into  their  conversation  what 
they  seem  to  regard  as  the  most  entertaining 
blunders,  whenever  conversation  turns  upon 
the  occupations  of  the  laboring  classes.  The 
same  individuals  seldom  know  the  way  to  any 
place,  are  incapable  of  discovering  whether 
their  faces  are  turned  to  the  north  or  the 
south ;  and  if  you  ask  them,  with  any  idea 
of  receiving  an  answer,  from  what  quarter 
the  wind  is  blowing,  you  might  as  well  ex- 
pect them  to  tell  you  whether  the  tide  is  at 
that  moment  rising  in  Nootka  Sound. 

If  any  of  these  confessions  of  ignorance, 
when  forced  upon  them,  were  attended  with 
embarrassment  or  shame,  they  would  claim 
our  sisterly  compassion  ;  and  sorry  should  I 
be  to  make  their  blushes  the  subject  of  public 


THE  WOMEN  OF  ENGLAND 


91 


remark.  But  when  we  find  this  ignorance 
persisted  in,  made  conspicuous  on  every  pos- 
sible occasion,  and  attended  with 

"  Nods,  and  becks,  and  wreathed  smiles," 

as  if  it  were  sure  to  meet  with  a  favorable 
reception  in  society,  we  cannot  withhold  the 
exclamation  of  our  patriot  poet,  that  from  our 
souls  we  "loathe  all  affectation." 

It  is  evident  that  this  helplessness,  and  this 
ignorance,  where  they  are  assumed,  must  be 
so  for  the  purpose  of  attracting  attention, 
claiming  assistance,  it  may  be,  from  the  other 
sex,  and  establishing  an  unquestionable  claim 
to  refinement,  by  giving  forth  to  society  an 
idea  of  habits  of  exclusion  from  all  vulgar  or 
degrading  association. 

It  is  difficult  to  imagine  a  mode  of  life,  or 
a  combination  of  circumstances,  less  advan- 
tageous to  the  cultivation  of  such  false  no- 
tions of  refinement,  than  those  which  are 
presented  by  the  real  situation  of  the  women 
of  England  ;  and  it  is  impossible  not  to  look, 
with  gloomy  anticipations  for  the  future  wel- 
fare of  our  country,  upon  the  increasing 
prevalence  of  these  erroneous  ideas  of  what 
is  really  excellent  and  admirable  in  the  female 
character. 

The  view  we  have  taken  of  the  subjects  at 
present  under  consideration,  naturally  leads 
us  to  that  great  root  of  more  than  half  the 
folly  and  the  misery  existing  among  women — 
the  love  of  admiration. 

The  extreme  case  of  a  woman  totally  in- 
different to  the  good  opinion  of  her  fellow- 
creatures,  would  fail  to  recommend  itself  to 
our  regard,  inasmuch  as  it  would  argue  a 
deficiency  in  her  nature,  of  those  feelings 
which  have  been  given  her  as  a  means  of 
happiness  to  herself  and  benefit  to  others. 
She  would  stand  amid  her  fellow-creatures  a 
lonely  and  isolated  being,  living  and  acting 
without  reference  to  the  existence  of  any 
other  being ;  and  if  she  escaped  the  thousand 
disappointments  of  those  who  act  from  oppo- 
site motives,  she  would  be  equally  exempt 
from  any  claim  upon  their  affection. 

Such  individuals,  however,  are  so  rare,  that 
the  consideration  of  their  peculiarities  would 


be  a  fruitless  waste  of  time  and  thought. 
It  is  to  the  opposite  extreme  of  character  that 
our  attention  must  now  be  given.  And  here 
I  would  request  the  reader  to  bear  in  mind, 
that  my  remarks  refer  strictly  to  the  love  of 
admiration,  not  to  the  love  of  approbation, 
which  I  take  to  be  a  natural  and  lawful  stim- 
ulus to  all  that  is  excellent  in  female  conduct. 

When  we  look  upon  human  life  with  "  crit- 
ical inspection,"  we  find  that  a  vast  propor- 
tion of  the  apparent  motives  acted  upon  before 
the  world,  are  not  the  real  motives  by  which 
the  individual  actors  are  influenced;  and 
that  this  system  of  deception  is  often  carried 
on  unconsciously  to  them,  because  they  are 
themselves  betrayed  by  the  deceitfulness  of 
their  own  hearts.  In  no  instance  is  this  more 
strikingly  the  case  than  in  our  love  of  admi- 
ration. To  gratify  this  desire,  what  suffering 
are  we  not  willing  to  endure,  what  pains  do 
we  not  take,  what  patience  can  we  not  exer- 
cise !  and  all  under  the  most  plausible  pre- 
tences— pretences  that  impose  upon  others 
less  effectually  than  ourselves,  that  we  are 
acting  upon  higher  and  more  praiseworthy 
principles.  There  is  this  difference,  however, 
to  be  observed  between  acting  from  worthy 
and  unworthy  motives  :  when  our  endeavors 
are  unsuccessful  and  our  motives  correct,  we 
seldom  give  way  to  the  fretfulness  of  disap- 
pointment ;  but  when  our  endeavors  are  in- 
effectual, and  we  look  back  into  our  own 
hearts,  and  find  them  unsupported  by  any 
laudable  object,  our  fretfulness  is  often  exas- 
perated into  bitterness  and  spleen. 

Observation  and  experience  have  taught 
me  to  believe,  that  many  of  the  secret  sor- 
rows of  woman's  life  owe  half  their  poign- 
ancy to  the  disappointment  of  not  being  able 
to  obtain  the  degree  of  admiration  which  has 
been  studiously  sought.  A  popular  and  ele- 
gant writer  has  said — "How  often  do  the 
wounds  of  our  vanity  form  the  secret  of  our 
pathos !"  And  to  the  situation,  and  the  feel- 
ings of  woman,  this  observation  is  more  espe- 
cially applicable.  Still  there  is  much  to  be 
said  for  woman  in  this  respect.  By  the  na- 
ture of  her  own  feelings,  as  well  as  by  the 
established  rules  of  polished  life,  she  is  thrown, 


92 


SOCIAL  INTERCOURSE  OF 


as  it  were,  upon  the  good-will  of  society.  Un- 
able to  assert  her  own  claims  to  protection, 
she  must  endeavor  to  ensure  it  by  secondary 
means,  and  she  knows  that  the  protection  of 
man  is  best  ensured  by  recommending  her- 
self to  his  admiration. 

Not  is  this  all.  There  is  but  a  faint  line 
of  demarkation  between  admiration  and  love. 
Though  essentially  different  in  their  nature, 
and  not  always  called  forth  by  the  same  indi- 
vidual, their  outward  aspect  is  still  so  much 
alike,  and  there  is  so  frequent  a  transition 
made  from  the  one  to  the  other,  that  it  re- 
quires more  able  reasoning  than  the  general- 
ity of  women  are  capable  of,  to  know  exactly 
when  they  are  exciting  admiration,  and  when 
they  are  inspiring  love.  There  is,  however, 
one  infallible  test  by  which  the  case  may  be 
decided,  and  I  cannot  .too  earnestly  recom- 
mend to  my  countrywomen  to  apply  it  to 
themselves.  If  they  are  admired  without 
being  beloved,  they  may  possibly  be  favorites 
in  company  abroad,  but  they  will  be  no  favor- 
ites at  home — they  may  obtain  the  good- will 
of  a  mere  acquaintance,  but  they  will  be 
solitary  and  neglected  at  their  own  fireside. 
If  they  are  cultivating  such  habits  as  are 
calculated  to  make  them  really  beloved,  espe- 
cially at  home,  they  may  retire  from  company 
in  which  they  have  been  wholly  overlooked, 
to  find  the  warmest  welcome  of  the  domestic 
circle  awaiting  their  return — they  may  not  be 
able  to  create  any  perceptible  sensation  when 
they  appear  in  public,  but  every  familiar 
countenance  around  their  social  hearth  will 
be  lighted  up  with  smiles  when  they  appear. 

With  regard  to  the  love  of  admiration,  it 
is  much  to  be  regretted  that  all  women  who 
make  this  one  of  the  chief  objects  of  their 
lives,  do  not  at  the  same  time  evince  an 
equal  solicitude  to  be  admired  for  what  is 
really  praiseworthy.  Were  this  the  case, 
they  would  at  least  be  employed  in  cultiva- 
ting useful  habits ;  and  as  the  student  who 
aims  at  obtaining  a  prize,  even  if  he  fails  in 
that  direct  object,  has  obtained  what  is  more 
desirable,  in  the  power  of  application  which 
he  has  made  himself  master  of;  so  the  wo- 
man who  aims  at  moral  excellence,  if  the 


taste  of  society  is  too  vitiated  to  receive  with 
admiration  the  first  inpression  her  character 
is  calculated  to  make,  has  yet  acquired  such 
habits  as  will  prove  an  inestimable  treasure 
throughout  the  whole  of  her  after  life. 

We  do  not,  however,  see  that  this  is  the 
case  so  much  as  might  be  desired  in  modern 
society.  There  is  an  appearance  among  the 
women  of  the  present  day,  of  being  too  eager 
for  an  immediate  tribute  of  admiration,  to 
wait  for  the  development  of  moral  worth; 
and  thus  they  cultivate  those  more  shining 
accomplishments,  which  dazzle  and  delight 
for  the  moment,  but  leave  no  materials  for 
agreeable  reflection  behind.  Like  the  con- 
ductor of  an  exhibition  of  fireworks,  they 
play  off  their  splendid  combinations  of  light 
and  color ;  but  the  magazine  is  soon  expend- 
ed, and  the  scene  closes  with  weariness,  and 
vacuity,  and  the  darkness  of  night 

What  a  waste  of  time,  and  means,  and 
application,  for  such  a  result !  What  an  ex- 
penditure of  thought  and  feeling,  to  have 
produced  this  momentary  display !  Surely 
no  philanthropist  can  behold  unmoved  the 
pitiful  objects  for  which  women,  who  court 
the  incense  of  admiration,  are  spending  their 
lives.  Surely  none  of  the  patriot  sons  of 
Britain  can  look  on,  and  see  with  indiffer- 
ence the  sisters,  the  wives,  the  mothers,  of 
our  English  homes,  perpetually  employed, 
even  in  a  world  of  care  and  suffering,  of 
anxiety  and  disappointment,  in  administering 
to  the  momentary  gratification  of  the  eye 
and  the  ear,  while  the  heart  is  left  unsatisfied, 
and  the  drooping  soul  uncheered. 

The  desire  of  being  beloved  is  an  ambition 
of  a  far  more  amiable  and  praiseworthy  char- 
acter. But  who  shall  record  the  endless  va- 
riety of  suffering  it  entails  upon  woman  ?  I 
will  not  believe  of  my  sex,  that  it  is  the  love 
of  admiration  only,  which  gives  birth  to  all 
those  rivalries  and  mortifications — that  envy, 
and  spleen,  and  bitterness,  which  mar  the  fe- 
licity of  female  companionship.  It  must  be 
some  deeper  feeling  ;  and  I  at  least  will  give 
them  credit  for  being  wounded  in  a  tenderer 
point  than  their  vanity,  before  they  can  so 
far  do  violence  to  their  gentler  nature,  as  to 


THE  WOMEN  OF  ENGLAND. 


revenge  upon  each  other  the  slights  and  the 
humiliations  they  receive. 

Yes :  it  is  to  human  calculation  the  most 
pardonable,  and  yet  it  is  the  most  soul-be- 
setting sin  of  woman,  to  be  perpetually  in- 
vesting earthly  objects  with  an  interest  too 
intense  for  her  own  happiness ;  and  asking 
of  some  oracle  she  has  herself  established, 
for  an  answer  to  the  language  of  her  own 
heart.  Let  her  seek  as  she  may,  the  admi- 
ration and  applause  of  the  world,  it  never 
satisfies  the  craving  of  her  soul.  She  must 
have  something  to  come  home  to — a  shelter 
even  in  the  brightest  sunshine — a  bower  in 
the  fairest  garden — a  shrine  within  the  rich- 
est temple.  She  cannot  mingle  with  the 
stream  of  life,  and  float  securely  on,  as  one 
among  the  many.  She  will  not  even  be  ex- 
alted in  solitary  distinction.  The  world  has 
no  wealth  to  offer,  that  she  would  possess 
alone. 

This  is  the  true  nature  of  woman ;  and 
the  home  she  seeks  is  in  the  hearts  of  those 
who  are  bound  to  her  by  affection.  She 
knows  that  her  place  in  this  home  is  not  to 
be  maintained  without  unceasing  care  ;  and 
hence  the  solicitude  she  bestows  upon  things 
of  trifling  moment.  She  knows  also  that  in 
some  instances  she  is  liable  to  be  supplanted ; 
she  feels,  perhaps,  that  she  is  not  worthy  to 
monopolize  so  honorable  a  place ;  and  hence 
her  watchfulness  and  jealousy.  It  may  be 
that  she  is  "  discarded  thence,"  for  human 
love  is  sometimes  treacherous ;  and  hence 
her  wounded  spirit,  and  the  occasional  out- 
pouring of  natural  feeling,  by  which  she 
brings  upon  herself  the  odium  of  bitterness 
and  revenge. 

Thus  the  darkest  faults  of  woman  may 
often  be  traced  back  to  those  peculiarities  of 
her  nature,  which,  under  favoring  circum- 
stances, and  with  the  Divine  blessing,  may 
constitute  her  highest  recommendation,  and 
surest  source  of  happiness.  How  important 
is  it,  then,  since  to  woman  it  is  essential  to  be 
loved,  that  she  should  not  expect  to  reap 
where  she  has  never  sown,  and  thus  incur 
the  most  painful  disappointment  to  which 
her  suffering  nature  is  liable  ! 


With  regard  to  the  anxiety  to  be  admired, 
then,  I  would  propose  that  approve  should  be 
substituted  for  admire,  and  just  so  far  as  wo- 
men seek  the  approval  of  their  friends,  under 
the  guidance  of  religious  truth,  there  is  every 
reason  to  believe  they  will  reap  an  abundant 
reward.  With  regard  to  the  desire  to  be 
beloved,  I  can  only  repeat,  that  the  women 
of  England  are  peculiarly  blessed  in  the 
means  they  possess  of  rendering  themselves 
estimable  in  society ;  and  the  opportunities 
they  enjoy  of  cultivating  the  kindest  and  hap- 
piest feelings  of  our  nature.  They  have  the 
homes  of  England  in  their  keeping ;  and  the 
hearts  within  those  homes  must  necessarily 
be  attracted  or  repelled  by  the  light  or  the 
shade  which  their  presence  diffuses  around 
them.  They  cannot  complain  that  circum- 
stances are  against  them  in  the  attainment 
of  moral  worth.  All  the  natural  characteris- 
tics of  their  native  country  are  in  their  favor. 
The  happiness  of  the  whole  human  family, 
and  especially  of  man,  supplies  them  with  a 
never-failing  motive.  Nature  and  religion 
are  both  on  their  side — the  one  to  prompt, 
the  other  to  lure  them  on.  They  have  the 
gratitude  of  their  fellow-creatures  awaiting 
their  endeavors — and  what  is  more,  they 
have  the  gracious  approval  of  their  heavenly 
Father,  as  their  encouragement  and  reward. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

PUBLIC   OPINION — PECUNIARY    RESOURCES — IN- 
TEGRITY. 

THE  respect  paid  by  women  to  public 
opinion,  and  to  the  conventional  rules  of 
society,  might  have  been  considered  with 
some  propriety  under  the  head  of  love  of 
admiration,  did  not  the  immediate  connection 
of  this  subject  with  that  of  integrity,  render 
it  more  suited  to  the  present  chapter. 

To  use  a  popular  Germanism,  it  is  but  a 
one-sided  view  of  the  subject  that  we  take, 
when  we  suppose  that  the  hope  of  being  ad- 
mired is  the  strongest  stimulus  to  the  female 


GENERAL  HABITS  OF 


character  in  all  cases  where  her  conduct  is 
referred  to  public  opinion.  The  dread  of  be- 
ing censured  or  condemned,  exercises,  I  am 
inclined  to  think,  a  far  more  extensive  influ- 
ence over  her  habits  and  her  feelings.  Any 
deviation  from  the  fashionable  mode  of  dress, 
or  from  the  established  usages  of  polished 
life,  present  an  appalling  difficulty  to  a  wo- 
man of  ordinary  mind,  brought  up  under  the 
tutelage  of  what  is  called  the  world.  She 
cannot — positively  cannot — dare  not — will 
not  do  any  thing  that  the  world  has  pro- 
nounced unladylike.  Nor,  while  she  lives  in 
the  world,  and  mixes  in  polished  society,  is  it 
at  all  desirable  that  she  should  deviate  from 
such  universally  acknowledged  rules,  except 
where  absolute  duty  leads  her  into  a  different 
line  of  conduct  I  should  be  the  last  person 
to  advise  a  woman  to  risk  the  consequences 
of  such  deviations,  simply  for  the  sake  of 
being  singular;  because,  I  regard  the  as- 
sumption of  singularity  for  its  own  sake,  as 
one  of  the  most  absurd  of  all  the  varied  spe- 
cimens of  affectation  which  human  life  affords. 

To  choose  to  be  singular  without  a  suffi- 
cient reason,  and  to  dare  to  be  so  in  a  noble 
cause,  are  so  widely  different,  that  I  desire  to 
be  clearly  understood  in  the  remarks  I  am 
about  to  make,  as  referring  strictly  to  those 
cases  in  which  duty  renders  it  necessary  for 
women  to  deviate  from  the  fashions  and 
established  customs  of  the  time  or  place  in 
which  they  live. 

While  the  tide  of  prosperity  bears  us 
smoothly  on,  and  our  means  are  ample, 
and  our  luxuries  abundant,  we  suffer  little 
inconvenience  from  the  tyranny  of  the  world 
in  these  respects.  Indeed,  it  is  rather  an 
agreeable  amusement  to  many  ladies  to  con- 
sult the  fashions  of  the  day,  and  to  be  among 
the  first  to  change  their  mode  of  dress — to 
order  costly  furniture,  and  to  receive  com- 
pany in  the  most  approved  and  lady-like  style. 
But  as  I  have  before  observed,  of  the  class 
of  persons  to  which  this  work  chiefly  relates, 
the  tide  of  prosperity  is  apt  to  ebb,  as  well  as 
to  flow  ;  and  as  it  recedes  from  us  the  whole 
aspect  of  the  world  is  not  only  changed  to  us, 
but  the  aspect  of  our  conduct  is  changed  to 


the  world ;  so  that,  what  it  approved  in  us 
before,  and  honored  with  its  countenance,  is 
now  the  subject  of  its  extreme  and  bitter 
condemnation. 

It  ia  then  that  we  discover,  we  have  been 
serving  a  hard  master ;  but  unfortunately  for 
thousands  of  human  beings,  the  discovery 
brings  with  it  no  freedom  from  that  service. 
We  loathe  the  cruel  bondage ;  but  habit  is 
too  strong  for  conviction,  and  we  continue  to 
wear  the  galling  chain.  It  is,  then,  in  cases 
of  adverse  fortune,  that  we  see  the  incalcu- 
lable benefit  of  having  made  the  moral  duties 
of  social  and  domestic  life  the  rule  of  our 
conduct,  and  of  having  regarded  all  outward 
embellishments  as  things  of  very  subordinate 
importance. 

It  is  a  case  of  by  no  means  rare  occurrence, 
that  the  young  women  of  England  return 
home  from  school  more  learned  in  the  modes 
of  dress,  and  habits  of  conduct  prevailing 
among  the  fashionable  and  the  wealthy,  than 
in  any  of  those  systems  of  intellectual  culture  in 
which  they  have  been  instructed.  Or,  if  their 
knowledge  has  not  extended  to  what  is  done 
in  fashionable  life,  they  have  at  least  learned 
to  despise  what  is  done  among  the  vulgar  and 
the  poor,  to  look  upon  certain  kinds  of  dress 
as  impossible  to  be  worn,  and  to  regard  with 
supreme  contempt  every  indication  of  the  ab- 
sence of  fashionable  manners.  So  far  as  their 
means  of  information  could  be  made  to  ex- 
tend, they  have  laid  down,  for  the  guidance 
of  their  future  lives,  the  exact  rules  by  which 
the  outward  conduct  of  a  lady  ought  to  be 
regulated,  and  by  these  rules  they  determine 
to  abide. 

If  this  determination  was  applied  exclusive- 
ly to  what  is  delicate,  refined,  and  lovely  in 
the  female  character,  they  would  unquestion- 
ably be  preparing  themselves  for  being  both 
esteemed  and  beloved  ;  but  unfortunately  for 
them,  their  attention  is  too  often  directed  to 
the  mode  of  dress  worn  by  persons  much 
higher  than  themselves  in  worldly  prosperity, 
and  to  all  the  minutiae  of  look  and  manner, 
which  they  regard  as  indications  of  easy  cir- 
cumstances and  exemption  from  vulgar  oc- 
cupation. 


THE  WOMEN  OF  ENGLAND. 


95 


Nor  is  the  school  itself,  or  the  mode  of 
treatment  there,  to  be  regarded  as  the  source 
of  these  ideas  and  conclusions.  The  customs 
of  modern  society  and  the  taste  of  modern 
times  are  solely  in  fault  And  wherever 
young  ladies  are  congregated  together  with 
the  same  means  of  communication  as  at 
school,  the  same  results  must  follow,  until 
the  public  taste  undergoes  a  material  change, 
or  until  the  women  of  England  have  become 
learned  in  a  higher  school  of  wisdom. 

With  the  preparation  here  alluded  to,  our 
young  women  enter  upon  social  life  ;  and  as 
years  roll  on,  the  habits  thus  acquired  of  mak- 
ing custom  and  fashion  the  rule  of  their  lives, 
strengthen  with  the  establishment  of  their 
character,  and  become  as  parts  of  their  very 
being.  What  then  is  the  consequence  of  such 
habits  in  the  day  of  their  adversity,  when  the 
diminution  of  their  pecuniary  means  leaves 
them  no  longer  the  power  of  conforming  to 
the  world  they  have  so  loved  ]  The  conse- 
quence is,  that  along  with  many  real  priva- 
tions, their  ideal  sufferings  are  increased  a 
hundred-fold  by  the  fact  that  they  must  dress 
and  live  in  a  manner  different  from  what  they 
have  been  accustomed  to — in  short,  that  they 
must  lose  caste. 

How  little  has  the  mere  circumstance  of 
relinquishing  our  luxuries  to  do  with  the  dis- 
tress attendant  upon  the  loss  of  worldly  sub- 
stance !  We  find  every  day  that  persons  trav- 
elling expressly  for  enjoyment,  joining  in  so- 
cial excursions  and  even  seeking  the  invigo- 
ration  of  their  health,  and  the  refreshment  of 
their  spirits,  from  the  sea-breezes,  or  in  places 
of  customary  resort  for  the  summer  months, 
voluntarily  resign  more  than  half  their  habit- 
ual indulgences,  and  subject  themselves,  with- 
out a  murmur,  to  the  occupation  of  apart- 
ments which  they  would  scarcely  think  possi- 
ble to  be  endured  for  a  single  day  in  their 
native  town ;  and  all  the  while  they  are  per- 
haps more  happy  and  more  cheerful  than  in 
their  elegant  drawing-rooms  at  home. 

It  is  evident,  then,  that  it  cannot  be  their 
individual  share  in  the  gratification  of  artifi- 
cial wants,  which  they  find  it  so  heart-break- 
ing to  resign.  It  must  be  that  a  certain  num- 


ber of  polite  and  refined  individuals  having 
combined  to  attach  a  high  degree  of  impor- 
tance to  the  means  of  procuring  the  luxuries 
of  life,  all  who  belong  to  this  class,  when  com- 
pelled to  exhibit  in  public  a  manifest  destitu- 
tion of  such  means,  regard  themselves,  and 
expect  to  be  regarded  by  others,  as  having 
become  degraded  in  the  sight  of  their  fellow, 
creatures,  and  no  longer  entitled  to  their  fa- 
vor or  regard. 

It  is  of  no  use  asserting  that  we  all  know  bet- 
ter than  to  come  to  this  conclusion — that  man- 
kind are  not  so  weak,  or  so  unjust — that  we 
appreciate  the  moral  worth  of  an  individual 
beyond  the  luxuries  of  his  table,  or  the  costli- 
ness of  his  dress.  It  is  easy  to  say  this  ;  but 
it  is  not  so  easy  to  believe  it,  because  the  prac- 
tical proof  of  experience  is  against  it  If,  for 
instance,  we  cared  for  none  of  these  things, 
why  should  the  aspect  of  human  life  present 
such  a  waste  of  time,  and  health,  and  patience, 
and  mental  power,  and  domestic  peace,  in  the 
pursuit  of  wealth,  when  that  wealth  is  expend- 
ed, as  soon  as  gained,  in  maintaining  an  ap- 
pearance of  elegance  and  luxury  before  the 
world  ? 

I  am  not  prepared  to  argue  about  the  ben- 
efits resulting  from  the  encouragement  of  ar- 
tificial wants,  and  the  increase  of  luxuries,  on 
the  broad  scale  of  national  prosperity.  There 
are  pens  more  able  and  more  fit  for  such  a 
purpose.  My  narrower  views  are  confined 
to  the  individual  evils  resulting  from  an  over- 
strained ambition  to  keep  pace  with  our 
wealthier  associates  in  our  general  habits; 
and  I  would  write  with  earnestness  on  this 
subject,  because  I  believe  that  in  England,  at 
the  present  time,  these  evils  are  of  rapidly  in- 
creasing extent 

It  may  seem  unimportant  to  those  who 
have  no  experience  in  these  affairs,  to  speak 
of  the  private  and  domestic  disputes  arising 
out  of  artificial  wants,  on  one  side,  and  in- 
ability to  provide  the  demanded  supply  for 
them,  on  the  other.  Yet  what  family,  in  mod- 
erate circumstances,  has  not  some  record  of 
scenes,  alike  humiliating  to  human  nature, 
and  destructive  to  human  happiness,  in  which 
the  ill-judged  request,  or  the  harsh  denial— 


96 


GENERAL  HABITS  OF 


the  importunate  appeal,  or  the  agonizing  re- 
ply— the  fretful  remonstrance,  or  the  bitter  re- 
tort, have  not  at  seasons  cast  a  shade  over 
the  domestic  hearth,  and  destroyed  the  peace 
of  the  circle  gathered  around  the  social  board. 

It  may  appear  still  more  like  trifling,  to  speak 
of  the  sensations,  with  which  a  member  of  a 
fallen  family  regards  her  dilapidated  ward- 
robe, and  looks,  and  looks  in  vain  for  a  gar- 
ment sufficiently  respectable  to  make  her  ap- 
pearance in  before  a  rich  relation.  Perhaps 
she  has  but  one — a  call  has  to  be  made  upon 
a  person  of  distinction,  and  as  she  proceeds 
on  her  way,  eyeing  with  watchful  anxiety  ev- 
ery speck  and  spray  that  would  be  likely  to 
reduce  her  garment  below  the  average  of  re- 
spectability, a  storm  overtakes  her.  There 
are  carriages  for  all  who  can  afford  to  pay 
for  them,  but  none  for  her :  and  the  agony  of 
losing  her  last  claim  to  gentility  takes  posses- 
sion of  her  soul. 

The  reader  may  possibly  smile  at  the  ab- 
surdity of  this  case.  A  half-clad  savage  from 
some  barbarous  island,  would  probably  smile, 
could  he  be  made  to  understand  it  But 
nothing  can  be  further  from  exciting  a  smile 
than  the  real  sensations  it  occasions.  Noth- 
ing can  be  further  from  a  smile,  than  the  look 
with  which  a  failing  tradesman  regards  the 
forlorn  condition  of  his  hat,  when  he  dares 
not  brush  it,  lest  he  should  render  its  destitu- 
tion more  apparent  Nothing  can  be  further 
from  a  smile,  than  the  glance  he  casts  upon 
his  threadbare  coat,  when  he  knows  of  no  pos- 
sible resource  in  art  or  nature  that  can  sup- 
ply him  with  a  new  one.  And  nothing  can 
be  further  from  a  smile,  than  the  cold  wel- 
come we  give  to  a  guest  who  presents  him- 
self unexpectedly,  and  must,  perforce,  look  in 
upon  the  scantiness  of  our  half-furnished 
table. 

It  is  easy  to  class  these  sources  of  disquie- 
tude under  the  head  of  absurdities,  and  to  call 
them  unworthy  of  rational  beings ;  but  I  do 
believe,  there  is  more  real  misery  existing  in 
the  world  at  the  present  time,  from  causes 
like  these,  than  from  all  those  publicly  aknow- 
ledged  calamities  which  are  more  uniformly 
attributed  to  the  dispensations  of  Providence. 


I  do  not  mean  that  these  miseries  arise  di- 
rectly from,  or  are  by  any  means  confined  to, 
our  personal  appearance,  or  the  furniture  of 
our  houses;  but  when  we  contemplate  the 
failure  of  pecuniary  means,  as  it  is  regarded 
by  the  world,  and  attempt  to  calculate  the  im- 
mense variety  of  channels  through  which  the 
suffering  it  produces  is  made  to  flow,  in  con- 
sequence of  the  customs  and  habits  of  society, 
I  believe  they  will  be  found  to  extend  through 
every  variety  of  human  life,  to  the  utmost 
range  of  human  feeling.  Is  it  not  to  escape 
this  suffering  that  the  man  of  unsound  prin- 
ciples too  frequently  applies  himself  to  dis- 
honorable means — that  the  suicide  prepares 
the  deadly  draught — and  that  the  emigrant 
sometimes  forsakes  his  native  land,  and  con- 
signs himself  to  the  solitude  of  unpeopled 
wilds  ? — In  short,  what  more  remains  within 
the  range  of  human  capability,  which  man  has 
not  done,  with  the  hope  of  flying  from  the 
horrors  attendant  upon  the  falling  away  of  his 
pecuniary  means? 

When  the  reality  of  this  suffering  is  ac- 
knowledged, as  it  must  be  by  all  who  look 
upon  society  as  it  exists  at  the  present  mo- 
ment ;  the  next  subject  of  importance  is,  to 
consider  how  the  suffering  can  be  obviated, 
and  its  fatal  effects  upon  the  peace  and  hap- 
piness of  society  prevented. 

The  most  immediate  means  that  could  be 
made  to  operate  upon  woman  would  unques- 
tionably be  by  implanting  in  her  mind  a  deeper 
and  more  rational  foundation  of  thought  and 
feeling — to  put  a  stop  to  that  endless  variety 
of  ill-natured  gossip  which  relates  to  the  want 
of  elegance,  or  fashionable  air  in  certain  per- 
sons' dress  and  manner  of  living ;  so  that 
there  should  be  no  questioning,  "  What  will 
be  thought  of  my  wearing  this  dress  again  ?" 
"  What  will  Miss  P.,  or  Mrs.  W.  say,  if  they 
see  our  old  curtains  ?"  "  What  can  the  John- 
sons mean  by  travelling  outside  V  "  What 
will  the  people  at  church  or  chapel  say,  when 
they  see  your  shabby  veil?"  "I  positively 
don't  believe  the  Wilsons  can  afford  a  new 
carpet,  or  they  would  surely  have  one ;  and 
they  have  discontinued  their  subscription  to 
our  book-society." 


THE  WOMEN  OF  ENGLAND. 


97 


It  is  neither  grateful  nor  profitable  to  pur- 
sue these  remarks  any  further  than  as  they 
serve  for  specimens  of  that  most  contempti- 
ble of  small-talk,  which  yet  exercises  a  pow- 
erful influence  over  the  female  mind — so  much 
so,  that  I  have  known  the  whole  fabric  of  a 
woman's  philosophy  entirely  overthrown,  and 
her  peace  of  mind  for  the  moment  destroyed, 
by  the  simple  question,  whether  she  had  no 
other  dress  than  the  one  she  was  so  often 
seen  to  wear. 

There  is  another  instance  that  occurs  to  me 
as  illustrating,  in  a  striking  manner,  the  sub- 
ject immediately  under  consideration :  it  is 
that  of  wearing  mourning  for  a  deceased  rel- 
ative. This  custom  is  so  generally  acknow- 
ledged as  desirable,  that  it  needs  no  recom- 
mendation from  my  pen.  One  would  suppose, 
however,  on  a  superficial  view  of  it,  that  the 
wearing  of  black,  as  a  general  costume  indi- 
cative of  the  absence  of  festivity  or  merriment 
from  the  bereaved  family,  was  all  that  had 
been  originally  intended  by  this  custom ;  and 
that  it  should  thus  become  an  outward  testi- 
mony of  respect  and  sorrow  for  the  dead. 

The  fashion  of  the  world,  however,  has  im- 
posed upon  this  custom,  as  applies  to  females, 
certain  restrictions,  and  additions  so  expen- 
sive in  their  nature  as  to  render  it  rather  an 
article  of  luxury  to  wear  genteel  mourning, 
or  that  which  is  indicative  of  the  deepest 
grief.  It  interferes  but  little  with  the  sorrow 
and  seclusion  of  a  recent  bereavement,  for  the 
mistress  of  ample  means  to  give  orders  for  an 
external  exemplification  of  precisely  the  de- 
gree of  sorrow  supposed  to  attend  upon  the 
loss  of  a  parent,  or  a  distant  relative.  But 
when  the  means  of  pecuniary  expenditure 
are  extremely  small,  and  the  materials  for 
appearing  properly  in  public  have  to  be  made 
up  at  home,  and  prepared  for  use  within  a 
very  limited  time,  it  is  evident  that  greater 
regard  to  the  sacredness  of  sorrow  would 
suggest  the  desirableness  of  a  less  elaborate 
style  of  dress,  or  perhaps  a  dress  not  abso- 
lutely new  for  the  occasion.  Ladies,  how- 
ever, and  those  who  have  been  accustomed 
to  make  gentility  the  primary  rule  of  their 
conduct,  must  mourn  genteelly;  and,  conse- 


quently, there  are  often  scenes  of  bustling 
preparation,  of  invention,  and  studious  ar- 
rangement— scenes,  upon  which,  if  a  stranger 
should  look  in,  he  would  see  an  appearance  of 
activity,  and  interest,  almost  amounting  to 
amusement,  in  the  very  house  where  the  shut- 
ters are  still  closed ;  and  which  are  wholly  at 
variance  with  the  silence  and  the  sanctity  of 
a  deep  and  solemn  grief. 

Nor  is  this  all.  So  extremely  becoming 
and  lady-like  is  the  fashionable  style  of  mourn- 
ing, that,  under  the  plea  of  paying  greater  re- 
spect to  the  memory  of  the  dead,  it  has  be- 
come an  object  of  ambition  to  wear  it  in  its 
greatest  excellence  ;  and  equally  an  object  of 
dread,  and  source  of  humiliation,  to  be  com- 
pelled to  wear  it  in  an  inferior  style.  Thus, 
when  the  loss  of  a  father  is  attended  with  the 
failure  of  his  pecuniary  resources,  it  adds  no 
little  to  the  grief  into  which  his  daughters  are 
plunged,  to  be  under  the  necessity  of  appear- 
ing so  soon  after  their  twofold  loss,  under  such 
an  outward  sign  of  poverty  as  is  generally 
understood  by  the  world  to  be  betrayed  by 
cheap  and  humble  mourning. 

It  is  evident  that  if  the  preparation  of  mourn- 
ing had  never  been  reduced  to  a  system — so 
many  folds  of  crape  for  a  parent — so  many 
for  a  sister,  and  so  on — the  peculiar  style  in 
which  it  might  be  made  up  would  never  have 
obtained  half  its  present  importance,  and  re- 
spectable women,  of  fallen  fortunes,  might 
then  have  appeared  in  public  with  the  credil 
of  paying  as  much  honor  to  the  memory  of  the 
dead,  as  the  more  wealthy  ;  nay,  they  might 
even  have  been  so  absorbed  in  their  heart- 
rending loss,  and  in  all  the  solemn  and  affect- 
ing impressions  it  was  calculated  to  inspire, 
as  to  forget  to  have  any  new  preparation  for 
the  occasion,  and  might,  without  loss  of  re- 
spectability, appear  again  in  those  accustomed 
habiliments  of  darkness  and  gloom  which  for- 
mer instances  of  family  affliction  and  bereave- 
ment had  been  the  means  of  bringing  into  use. 
I  mention  the  instance  of  mourning,  not  be- 
cause it  iiffers  materially  from  many  others, 
but  because  it  appears  to  me  to  illustrate 
clearly  and  strikingly  the  degree  of  shame 
and  trouble,  and  perplexity,  in  which  women 


GENERAL  HABITS  OF 


are  involved  by  ."the  habit  of  attaching  too 
much  importance  to  the  usages  of  society.  I 
know  that  it  is  beneficial  to  the  character  and 
the  morals  of  women,  that  their  good  name 
should  be  guarded  from  every  breath  of  re- 
proach ;  and  that  the  wholesome  restrictions 
of  society  are  absolutely  necessary  to  prevent 
them  from  sometimes  venturing  too  far  under 
the  influence  of  generous  and  disinterested 
feeling.  But  my  remarks  apply  exclusively 
to  cases  where  their  moral  worth  would  be 
established,  not  endangered;  and  I  would 
earnestly  request  my  countrywomen  to  bear 
in  mind  the  immense  difference  between  de- 
viating from  the  rules  of  fashion,  and  break- 
ing through  the  wholesome  restrictions  of 
prudence. 

I  have  spoken  in  strong  terms  of  the  suf- 
ferings and  inconveniences  incident  to  women, 
from  their  slavery  to  the  opinion  of  the  world ; 
but  were  this  consideration  all  that  had  to  be 
taken  into  account,  they  would  unquestiona- 
bly have  a  right  to  adjust  the  balance,  and 
act  according  to  their  own  choice. 

There  is,  however,  a  far  more  important 
question  connected  with  this  subject — and 
that  is,  the  question  of  integrity. 

If  there  be  one  moral  quality  for  which 
England  as  a  nation  is  distinguished  above 
all  others,  I  should  say  it  was  her  integrity  : 
integrity  in  her  intercourse  with  other  na- 
tions ;  integrity  in  the  administration  of  her 
government  and  laws  ;  integrity  in  the  sound 
hearts  and  honorable  feelings  of  her  patriotic 
sons. 

And  shall  her  daughters  be  less  solicitous 
to  uphold  this  high  standard  of  moral  worth  ? 
They  answer  "  No  !"  But  they  are  perhaps 
not  all  aware  of  the  encroaching  and  insidi- 
ous nature  of  artificial  wants,  and  tastes,  and 
habits,  founded  upon  the  fashion  of  the  times 
rather  than  upon  any  lasting  principle  of 
right  They  are  not  all  aware,  that  to  dress 
and  live  beyond  their  means,  is  a  species  of 
public  robbery  ;  and  that  even  if  every  law- 
ful debt  is  paid,  and  the  balance  struck  with- 
out injury  to  character  or  credit,  there  are 
still  the  poor,  the  starving,  hungry,  helpless 
poor,  unsatisfied  with  bread.  They  have 


therefore  the  strong  claims  both  of  justice 
and  benevolence  to  fulfil,  before  the  integrity 
of  their  Christian  character  can  be  complete. 

With  regard  to  general  benevolence,  and 
charity  to  the  poor,  we  are  apt  to  deceive 
ourselves  to  an  extent  which  would  be  be- 
yond our  belief,  were  we  not  convinced  by 
the  observation  of  every  day,  that  few,  very 
few  of  those  even  in  the  middle  ranks  of 
life— few  even  of  those  tender-hearted  fe- 
males who  are  so  painfully  affected  by  every 
exhibition  of  human  misery — do  any  thing  at 
all  commensurate  with  their  means,  towards 
alleviating  the  suffering  which  is  to  be  found 
among  the  poor. 

I  am  not  inclined  to  attach  any  high  de- 
gree of  merit  to  the  mere  act  of  giving  money 
to  the  poor,  because  I  esteem  it  a  luxury  to 
be  thus  instrumental  in  relieving  their  press- 
ing difficulties ;  and  I  am  also  in  considera- 
ble doubt  whether  this  js  the  best  method  of 
relieving  them.  The  point  I  am  about  to  re- 
mark upon,  however,  is  the  extreme  incon- 
sistency of  those  longings,  so  prevalent 
among  ladies,  thaj;  they  could  give  to  the 
poor,  and  the  lamentations  they  frequently 
utter  relating  to  the  absolute  necessity  they 
are  under  of  not  giving  more.  We  find  them 
elegantly  dressed,  dwelling  among  costly  fur- 
niture, and  denying  themselves  nothing  which 
their  wealthier  neighbors  enjoy  ;  and  all  the 
while  they  do  so  wish  they  could  give  more 
to  the  poor ! 

I  confess  it  sickens  the  heart,  and  wearies 
the  mind,  to  listen  to  absurdities  like  this. 
If  these  individuals  would  but  let  the  matter 
rest,  and  be  content  to  be  fashionable  without 
pretending  to  be  generous,  half  their  culpa- 
bility would  cease  to  exist  But  they  go  on 
to  explain  to  you  how  their  station  in  life, 
and  their  credit  in  society,  require  them  to 
dress  and  live  in  a  certain  way,  and  how 
they  consider  themselves  doing  a  benefit  to 
their  country  by  their  encouragement  of  its 
manufactures. '  It  would  not  be  inappropriate 
to  ask  them,  as  they  enter  a  fashionable  and 
expensive  establishment  to  purchase  some 
costly  articles  of  dress,  whether  they  are  do- 
ing it  in  reality  for  the  benefit  of  their  country  ? 


THE  WOMEN  OF  ENGLAND. 


99 


and  there  might  be  seasons  when  it  would  be 
equally  appropriate  to  inquire,  whether  they 
prefer  their  appearance  before  the  world,  to 
the  spiritual  consolation  of  having  made  the 
injunctions  of  their  blessed  Saviour  the  rule 
of  their  conduct 

The  measure  of  charity  which  it  is  our 
duty  to  bestow  upon  the  poor,  is  a  point  of 
very  difficult  adjustment,  as  well  as  the  man- 
ner we  may  choose  to  adopt  in  the  distribu- 
tion of  our  means.  We  cannot  properly 
make  ourselves  the  judge  of  a  brother  or  a 
sister,  in  these  respects.  But  if  we  have 
sufficient  resources  for  the  purchase  of  luxu- 
ries, it  is  in  vain  to  pretend  that  we  cannot 
give  to  the  poor  ;  and  if  we  will  not  spare  a 
little  out  of  our  little,  we  cannot  expect  to  be 
belie  ved  when  we  boast  of  the  pleasure  it 
would  afford  us  to  be  charitable  with  more. 

There  are  noble  instances  afforded  by  wo- 
men in  the  middle  classes  of  society  in  Eng- 
land, of  what  can  really  be  done  in  the  way 
of  benevolence,  in  a  persevering  and  unob- 
trusive manner,  which  it  is  truly  refreshing 
to  the  soul  to  contemplate.  And  I  would 
earnestly  recommend  my  young  countrywo- 
men to  look  diligently  to  these,  and  to  ask 
whether  they  cannot  go  and  do  likewise, 
rather  than  to  accustom  themselves  to  the 
dangerous  habit  of  inquiring  whether  they 
cannot  afford  to  purchase  what  is  fashiona- 
ble and  becoming  to  a  lady,  even  when  it  is 
not  necessary  for  comfort  or  respectability. 
By  this  means  they  would  at  least  be  able  to 
attain  a  degree  of  merit ;  for  if  they  did  not 
go  to  the  extent  of  the  truly  devoted  and 
praiseworthy,  they  might  avoid  involving 
themselves  in  that  interminable  chain  of  ex- 
pensive contingencies,  which  are  sure  to  fol- 
low, if  we  set  out  in  life  by  making  it  our  first 
object  of  ambition  to  stand  well  with  the 
world,  and  to  accommodate  our  dress  and 
mode  of  living  to  that  which  is  most  admired 
in  society. 

The  fallacious  mode  of  reasoning  induced 
by  too  slavish  a  conformity  to  the  fashions 
and  the  customs  of  the  world,  creates  an 
endless  series  of  entanglements  most  fatally 
seductive  to  woman's  better  feelings.  The 


fact  of  having,  or  not  having,  absolute  debts 
unpaid,  seems  to  be,  with  most  young  ladies, 
the  boundary-line  of  their  morality,  as  relates 
to  their  pecuniary  affairs  ;  and  well  would  it 
be  if  all  were  strictly  scrupulous  even  to  this 
extent  Within  this  line,  however,  there  may 
be  deviations  from  the  integrity  of  a  noble, 
generous,  and  enlightened  mind,  which  yet 
the  world  takes  no  cognizance  of,  and  which 
do  not  materially  affect  the  character,  as  it  is 
judged  of  by  society  in  general. 

I  have  said  that  the  world  is  an  unjust 
judge,  and  in  no  instance  is  it  more  so  than 
in  this.  The  world  pays  homage  to  an  ex- 
pensive, elegant,  and  lady-like  appearance, — 
but  it  takes  little  note  of  the  principle  that 
would  condemn  this  appearance,  if  it  could 
not  be  maintained  without  encroachment  up- 
on a  parent's  limited  means.  The  restric- 
tions of  civil  law  refer  only  to  the  payment  of 
pecuniary  debts ;  and  when  these  are  dis- 
charged, we  may  appear  without  reproach 
before  society.  But  happily  for  us,  we  have 
a  higher  standard  of  moral  duty;  and  the 
integrity  of  the  Christian  character  requires 
a  strict  observance  of  points  of  conduct  un- 
seen by  society,  and  perhaps  known  only  to 
ourselves,  and  to  the  great  Searcher  of  hu- 
man hearts,  by  whose  judgment  we  must 
stand  or  fall. 

Reasoning,  then,  upon  these  subjects,  from 
higher  principles,  we  clearly  perceive  that  we 
have  no  right  to  indulge  ourselves  with  luxu- 
ries, or  to  purchase  the  countenance  and  fa- 
vor of  society,  at  the  expense  of  a  parent's 
peace,  or  by  the  sacrifice  of  the  comforts  of 
his  old  age.  We  have  no  right  to  encroach 
upon  means  not  strictly  and  lawfully  our 
own,  even  though  they  should  be  granted  to 
our  necessities,  for  more  than  belongs  to  ac- 
tual decency  of  appearance,  and  sufficiency 
of  subsistence,  except  in  those  cases  where  it 
is  the  desire  of  wealthy  friends  or  relatives 
that  we  should  be  adorned  and  supplied  at 
their  expense.  We  have  no  right,  and  no 
woman  of  good  feeling  would  wish  to  estab- 
lish a  right,  to  dress  and  live  at  the  extreme 
of  expenditure  which  a  father,  by  nothing  less 
than  hourly  and  incessant  toil,  can  obtain  the 


100 


HABITS  AND  CHARACTER  OF 


means  of  affording.  We  have  no  right  to 
make  presents,  and  thus  obtain  the  meed  of 
gratitude  and  admiration  for  our  generosity, 
with  money  which  is  immediately  transmit- 
ted from  our  father's  hand  for  that  especial 
purpose,  while  our  own  resources  remain  un- 
diminished,  our  own  private  store  of  treas- 
ures undivided,  and  our  circumstances  whol- 
ly unaffected. 

I  do  not  say  that  to  each  one  of  the  im- 
mense variety  of  daily  and  familiar  actions, 
which  might  be  classed  under  this  head>  there 
attaches  the  highest  degree  of  actual  culpa- 
bility. They  are  rather  instances  of  encroach- 
ment, than  of  absolute  injustice  and  wrong, 
But  I  do  say  that  the  habit  of  encroaching, 
just  so  far  as  decency  will  permit,  and  as  oc- 
casion seems  to  warrant,  upon  all  that  is 
noble  and  generous,  upright  and  kind,  in  hu- 
man conduct,  has  a  fatal  tendency  to  corrupt 
the  heart,  while  it  produces  at  the  same  time 
a  deadening  effect  upon  the  highest  and  ho- 
liest aspirations  of  the  soul. 

What  answer  can  be  made  by  such  a  soul 
to  the  secret  questionings  of  its  internal  mon- 
itor? Or  how  shall  we  appeal  to  the  gra- 
cious and  merciful  Creator  of  the  universe, 
who  has  given  us  all  this  glorious  world  for 
our  enjoyment,  and  all  the  elements  of  nature 
for  our  use  ;  who  has  looked  upon  us  in  our 
degiadation,  and  pitied  our  infirmities,  and 
opened  the  gates  of  heaven,  that  his  mercy 
might  descend  to  us  in  a  palpable  and  hu- 
man form,  and  that  we  might  receive  the 
conditions  of  his  offered  pardon,  be  healed, 
and  live  ?— how  shall  we  appeal  to  him  in 
our  private  prayers,  or  stand  before  him  in 
the  public  sanctuary,  with  this  confession  on 
our  lips — that  just  so  far  as  man  could  ap- 
prove or  condemn  our  actions,  we  have 
deemed  it  expedient  to  be  just ;  but  that 
to  him,  and  to  the  Saviour  of  our  souls,  we 
have  grudged  the  incense  of  a  willing  mind ; 
and  therefore  we  have  enhanced  our  pleas- 
ures, and  gratified  our  pride,  and  fed  our 
selfishness,  by  all  those  trifling,  yet  forbid- 
den means,  which  he  has  pronounced  to  be 
offensive  in  his  sight  ? 

Besides  these  considerations,  there  is  one 


of  immeasurable  importance,  connected  with 
our  conduct  in  the  sight  of  God.  No  hu- 
man mind  can  set  a  bound,  or  prescribe  a 
measure,  to  its  voluntary  deviations  from  the 
line  of  duty.  We  have  been  supposing  a 
case  in  which  these  deviations  are  extremely 
minute,  and  yet  so  numerous  as  to  form  as 
it  were  a  circle  round  the  heart — a  circle 
of  evil.  Imagine,  then,  this  circle  widening, 
and  widening,  year  after  year,  through  the 
seasons  of  youth  and  maturity,  and  the 
dreary  winter  of  old  age.  What  an  awful 
and  melancholy  spectacle  does  the  state  of 
that  heart  present,  enclosed  as  it  were  in  a 
deleterious  atmosphere,  and  growing  perpet- 
ually colder  and  more  callous  by  exclusion 
from  the  blessed  light  of  heaven  ! 

Oh !  let  us  not  begin  to  breathe  this  dead- 
ly atmosphere !  And  you  who  are  yet  in- 
experienced in  the  ways  of  human  life, 
whose  habits  are  not  formed,  whose  paths 
not  chosen,  whose  line  of  conduct  not  decid- 
ed, what  a  blessing  would  it  be  to  you,  both 
in  this  world  and  in  the  world  to  come,  were 
you  to  choose  iha.t,belter  part,  that  would  en- 
able you  to  look  with  a  single  eye  to  what  is 
most  acceptable  in  the  Divine  sight,  and  most 
in  accordance  with  the  will  of  God  ;  leaving 
the  embellishments  of  person,  the  luxuries  of 
taste,  and  the  appropriation  of  worldly  es- 
teem, to  be  enjoyed  or  relinquished  with  a 
grateful  and  contented  mind,  just  as  your 
heavenly  Father  may  permit ;  and  bearing 
always  about  with  you,  as  a  talisman  against 
the  encroachments  of  evil,  even  in  the  most 
simple  or  most  specious  form,  the  remem- 
brance that  none  of  these  things  are  worthy 
of  a  single  wish,  if  they  must  necessarily  be 
obtained  by  the  violation  of  his  laws,  or  ac- 
companied by  the  tokens  of  his  displeasure  ! 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

HABITS   AND    CHARACTER — INTELLECTUAL  AT- 
TAINMENTS  EMPLOYMENT  OF  TIME — MORAL 

COUKAGE — RIGHT  BALANCE  OF  MIND. 

To  those  gentle  readers  who  have  been 
kind  enough  to  accompany  me  through  the 


THE  WOMEN  OF  ENGLAND. 


101 


foregoing  pages,  and  who  feel  inclined  to  ex- 
ercise their  forbearance  towards  me  through 
a  few  more,  I  feel  that  some  apology,  or 
rather  some  explanation,  is  necessary  for  the 
manner  in  which  I  have  so  often  been  com- 
pelled to  speak  of  the  extraordinary  ambition 
manifested  by  my  countrywomen,  in  the 
present  day,  to  make  themselves  mistress  of 
every  possible  variety  of  intellectual  attain- 
ment that  can  be  acquired  at  school ;  and  I 
cannot  help  fearing  that  many  of  my  remarks 
may  appear  to  have  been  written  with  a  view 
to  depreciate  the  value  of  these  treasures  of 
mind,  and,  as  far  as  my  single  influence  may 
extend,  to  deter  others  from  the  pursuit  of 
;  them. 

So  far  from  this,  I  would  repeat,  if  possi- 
ble, in  words  which  could  not  be  forgotten, 
my  firm  conviction  that  no  human  being  can 
learn  too  much,  so  that  their  sphere  of  intel- 
ligence does  not  extend  to  what  is  evil.  But, 
while  the  accumulation  of  a  vast  store  of 
knowledge  is  one  of  the  objects  we  have  in 
view  in  the  culture  of  the  mind,  we  must  not 
forget  that  it  is  by  no  means  the  only  one. 
In  rearing  an  infant,  we  not  only  supply  its 
appetite  with  food,  but  also  find  it  necessary 
to  teach  it  the  habit,  and  assist  it  in  the  pow- 
er, of  exercising  its  limbs ;  we  guide  its  steps, 
and,  as  far  as  we  are  able,  give  it  just  notions 
of  exercising  its  bodily  functions  with  the  best 
effect. 

To  feed  the  mind,  then,  is  but  a  small  part 
of  our  duty.  If  we  leave  it  helpless  and  in- 
ert, without  ability  to  exercise  its  various 
powers,  and  judgment  to  exercise  them 
aright,  the  most  important  portion  of  that 
duty  is  neglected.  Thus  far,  I  believe,  all 
who  are  employed  in  teaching  the  young  will 
go  along  with  me,  for  their  experience  must 
afford  strong  evidence  in  favor  of  this  state- 
ment There  are  some  points,  however,  in 
which,  it  appears  to  me,  they  have  allowed 
the  fashion  of  the  times  to  render  their  sys- 
tem of  instruction  extremely  defective.  But, 
for  this,  I  am  by  no  means  prepared  to  say 
that  they  are  in  any  degree  to  blame ;  be- 
cause they  have  the  taste  of  the  times  to  con- 
sult ;  and  they  would  obtain  little  credit  for 


making  our  young  women  what  they  ought 
to  be,  if  that  taste  was  not  correct 

With  regard  to  moral  discipline,  or  that 
mode  of  instruction  by  which  women  would 
be  fitted  for  their  domestic  and  social  duties, 
I  have  expressed  my  opinion  in  an  earlier 
chapter  of  this  work,  and,  with  regard  to  in- 
tellectual culture,  I  hope  to  be  pardoned  if  I 
now  venture  a  few  remarks. 

It  appears  to  me,  in  looking  abroad  upon 
society,  and  contemplating  the  immense  va- 
riety of  mental  attainments  which  prevail 
among  the  young  women  of  the  present  day, 
that  they  are  in  imminent  danger  of  suppos- 
ing, when  they  have  acquired  a  vast  amount 
of  verbal  knowledge,  that  the  great  work  of 
education  is  done.  They  are,  in  short,  in 
danger  of  mistaking  the  means  for  the  end ; 
and  of  resting  satisfied  that  they  are  wiser 
than  the  generation  before  them. 

In  the  acquirement  of  languages  this  is 
particularly  the  case.  A  young  lady  obtains 
the  reputation  of  being  clever,  when  she  has 
made  herself  mistress  of  several  languages ; 
and  with  this  she  is  generally  satisfied  ;  while 
she  ought  to  remember  that  she  has  but 
gained  possession,  as  it  were,  of  the  keys  of 
vast  storehouses  of  knowledge,  for  the  use  of 
which  she  is  responsible  to  society. 

Again,  in  the  pursuit  of  science,  there  is  a 
technicality  that  strikes  the  ear,  and  gives  an 
idea  of  vast  superiority  in  the  way  of  attain- 
ments ;  and  there  are  facts  that  may  be  im- 
pressed upon  the  memory,  without  the  mind 
being  in  any  way  enlarged  or  enlightened  by 
the  reception  of  them.  It  is  easy,  for  in- 
stance, to  talk  of  botany,  without  the  thoughts 
at  any  time  extending  themselves  to  the  gen- 
eral economy  of  vegetation  ;  and  of  astrono- 
my, so  as  to  tell  the  distances  of  different 
planets,  without  the  soul  being  penetrated  by 
one  ray  of  illumination  from  the  wisdom 
which  designed,  and  which  controls  the  star- 
ry heavens.  It  is  easy  to  attend  a  few  scien- 
tific lectures,  and  to  return  home  talking  of 
the  names  of  gases,  and  of  some  of  the  most 
striking  phenomena  of  electricity,  the  gal- 
vanic battery,  and  other  popular  exhibitions 
of  the  lecture-room  ;  but  it  requires  a  totally 


102 


HABITS  AND  CHARACTER  OF 


different  process  of  mind  to  take  a  general 
survey  of  the  laws  of  the  universe,  and  to 
bow  before  the  conviction  that  all  must  have 
been  created  by  a  hand  divine. 

From  our  observations  of  rural  or  roman- 
tic scenery,  it  is  easy  to  babble  about  woods 
and  waterfalls,  about  the  ruggedness  of 
mountains,  and  the  grandeur  of  the  raging 
sea ;  but  it  does  not  follow  as  a  necessary 
consequence  that  we  have  formed  any  con- 
ception of  the  idea  of  abstract  beauty,  or  of 
the  reverential,  but  admiring  awe,  which  true 
sublimity  is  calculated  to  inspire.  It  does 
not  follow  that  we  shall  have  learned  to  im- 
body  in  the  elements  of  nature  those  subtler 
essences  of  spirit  and  of  mind,  which,  to  the 
poetical  and  imaginative,  people  every  desert, 
and  render  vocal  with  melody  the  silence  of 
night 

It  may  be  said,  that  in  this  busy  world 
there  is  little  employment  for  the  imagina- 
tion— little  scope  for  the  exercise  of  poetical 
associations.  I  grant — for  I  am  compelled  to 
do  so — that  poetry  should  be  elbowed  out  of 
our  working  world  to  make  room  for  ma- 
chinery ;  but  I  see  no  reason  why  the  same 
train  of  thought,  and  course  of  reasoning, 
should  not  be  carried  on.  I  grant  that  the 
materials  are  different ;  but  why  should  we 
not  still  endeavor  to  raise  an  altar  in  our 
minds  for  a  higher,  holier  worship  than  that 
of  the  mammon  of  this  world  1  Why  should 
we  fix  our  attention  solely  upon  the  material 
part  of  the  universe,  satisfying  ourselves 
with  the  names  of  substantial  things,  with 
their  variety,  classification,  and  physical 
properties?  Why  should  we  confine  our- 
selves to  counting  the  pillars  in  the  temple 
of  nature,  computing  its  magnitude  and 
measuring  its  height,  without  referring  all 
our  calculations,  through  the  highest  range 
of  imagination,  to  the  wonder-working  power 
of  the  great  Artificer  ? 

It  may  be  said  that  we  dwell  too  much  in 
cities,  and  lead  too  artificial  a  life,  to  be  able 
to  perceive  the  instrumentality  of  Divine 
Wisdom  in  all  the  events  that  pass  beneath 
our  observation.  If  this  be  the  case,  there  is 
the  more  need  that  we  should  rouse  our- 


selves by  fresh  efforts,  to  penetrate  beyond 
the  polished  surface  of  the  world  in  which 
we  live,  into  the  deeper  mysteries  that  lie  be- 
yond— there  is  the  more  need  that  we  should 
endeavor  to  perceive,  in  the  practical  affairs 
of  busy  life,  those  great  principles  by  which 
the  laws  of  nature  are  governed,  and  the 
system  of  the  universe  upheld. 

If,  for  instance,  we  live  in  the  heart  of  a 
thickly-peopled  city,  with  the  rush  of  its  busy 
multitudes  around  us,  and  the  labor  of  man's 
hand,  and  the  efforts  of  his  ingenuity,  perpet- 
ually before  our  eyes,  there  is  no  reason  why 
we  should  look  only  at  the  splendor  of  its 
manufactured  articles,  amuse  our  fancy  with 
the  outward  aspect  of  its  varied  exhibitions 
of  art,  or  regard  with  disgust  the  occupations 
of  the  mechanic,  because  he  handles  the  raw 
material,  and  touches  what  is  gross.  Would 
it  not  be  more  consistent  with  the  exercise  of 
an  enlightened  mind,  to  contemplate  the  won- 
ders of  that  power  which  the  Creator  has  in- 
trusted to  the  use  of  man,  so  that  he  lays 
hold,  as  it  were,  of  the  elements  of  nature, 
and  makes  them  submit  to  his  will  7  Night 
falls  not  with  stillness  and  repose  upon  the 
city  ;  but  we  walk  as  through  a  living  blaze : 
and  shall  we  pass  on,  like  children,  pleased 
with  the  glitter  and  the  show,  without  reflecting 
that  man  has  been  able  to  convert  the  darkest 
substance  from  the  bowels  of  the  earth  into 
the  very  source  of  all  this  light !  Mountains 
and  valleys,  tracts  of  land  and  floods  of  wa- 
ter, intervene  between  us  and  our  distant 
friends ;  but  we  fly  to  them  with  a  rapidity 
which,  a  few  years  ago,  would  have  been 
pronounced,  even  by  philosophers,  impossi- 
ble. And  shall  we  move  like  senseless  mat- 
ter, even  through  the  very  heart  of  the  moun- 
tain, calculating  only  the  speed  at  which  we 
travel,  without  awaking  to  the  momentous 
fact,  that  by  the  ingenuity  of  man,  mere  va- 
por, proverbial  as  it  is  for  its  weakness,  emp- 
tiness, and  nothingness  in  the  creation,  has 
been  converted  into  the  master-power  by 
which  the  mighty  operations  of  men  are  car- 
ried on  ?  We  take  our  daily  walks  through 
the  bustling  city,  and  gaze  at  the  splendid 
exhibitions  of  taste,  and  learn  the  names  of 


THE  WOMEN  OF  ENGLAND. 


103 


those  who  are  most  skilled  in  music  and 
painting,  and  all  the  sister  arts ;  and  we 
speak  in  the  cant  terms  that  are  most  in 
vogue,  and  think  we  display  superiority  of 
mind  and  intelligence  to  use  them  well ;  but 
should  we  not  at  the  same  time  cultivate  the 
habit  of  bearing  in  remembrance  the  un- 
changing principles  of  beauty,  and  of  refer- 
ring back  to  them  whatever  is  offered  to  our 
admiration  in  the  form  of  art! 

We  speak  of  the  degrading  cares  and  sor- 
did views  that  occupy  the  working  world; 
but  how  have  we  endeavored  to  pass  beyond 
these,  and  to  connect  them  with  the  world 
of  thought!  We  hear  of  the  vast  amount 
of  labor  carried  on,  and  the  relative  expenses 
incurred,  and  the  different  things  that  can  be 
made  and  done  within  a  given  time :  but  why 
should  we  not  sometimes  make  a  transition 
of  thought  from  the  material,  to  the  means 
of  working  it — from  the  means,  to  the  power 
— and  from  the  power  that  is  imparted,  to 
the  Creator  who  imparts.  To-day  the  me- 
chanic plies  his  busy  tools.  To-morrow  his 
hand  may  have  become  rigid  and  motionless 
beneath  the  stroke  of  death.  Thousands  and 
tens  of  thousands  pass  away  from  the  scene 
of  their  labors,  but  the  labor  still  goes  on  ;  for 
the  laws  of  nature  change  not,  and  the  prin- 
ciples upon  which  the  labor  of  man  is  carried 
into  effect,  remain  the  same. 

We  are  too  apt,  because  we  mingle  in  popu- 
lous and  busy  scenes,  and  feel  the  necessity 
of  moving  with  the  tide,  to  forget  that  what 
we  see  and  hear,  what  is  obvious  to  the 
senses  and  palpable  to  the  touch,  is  not  all 
that  we  live  for,  or  even  all  that  we  live 
amongst  We  should  endeavor  to  find 
breathing- times  even  amidst  the  hurry  and 
the  rush  of  present  things.  We  should 
sometimes  pause  among  the  multitude,  and 
listen  mentally,  to  the  beating  of  the  mighty 
pulse  of  a  tumultuous  city,  and  ask,  whether 
the  Creator  and  Sustainer  of  this  living  mass 
is  not  beholding  the  operation  of  the  various 
powers  he  has  set  in  motion,  marking  its  de- 
fects, supplying  its  deficiencies,  and  sustain- 
ing the  stupendous  whole.  We  should  then 
be  enabled  to  perceive  something  of  the 


working  of  the  inner  plan,  how  one  class  of 
human  beings  depends  upon  another — how 
the  principles  of  justice  establish  checks  and 
counter-checks,  so  that  no  single  power  shall 
be  predominant ;  how  poverty  and  riches  al- 
ternate, and  how  the  vices  of  the  bad  are 
made  to  call  forth  the  virtues  of  the  good ; 
and  by  renewing  our  conviction  that  God  is 
indeed  here,  as  well  as  present  to  the  more 
peaceful  and  harmonious  portions  of  his  cre- 
ation, we  should  renew  our  faith,  and  enjoy 
perpetual  refreshment  for  our  souls. 

What  we  most  want  in  education,  then,  is 
to  invest  material  things  with  the  attributes 
of  mind ;  and  we  want  this  more  and  more,  as 
commerce,  and  arts  and  manufactures  increase 
in  importance  and  extent  We  want  it  more 
and  more  to  give  interest  to  our  familiar  and 
necessary  occupations ;  and  we  want  it  espe- 
cially, that  we  may  assist  in  redeeming  the 
character  of  English  men  from  the  mere  ani- 
mal, or  rather,  the^mere  mechanical  state,  into 
which,  from  the  nature  and  urgency  of  their 
occupations,  they  are  in  danger  of  falling. 

We  want  it  also  for  ourselves ;  for  a  time 
seems  to  be  approaching,  when  the  middle 
class  of  society  in  England  will  have  to  be 
subdivided  ;  and  when  the  lower  portion  of 
this  class  will  of  necessity  have  to  turn  their 
attention  to  a  different  style  of  living,  and  to 
different  modes  of  occupation,  thought,  and 
feeling.  At  present  all  this  class  are  educa- 
ted nearly  upon  the  same  plan.  The  happi- 
ness of  society,  and  our  moral  necessities, 
will  surely,  before  long,  suggest  the  import- 
ance of  females  of  this  class  being  fitted  for 
something  very  different  from  drawing-room 
exhibitions. 

All  that  I  have  written  in  this  volume,  im- 
perfect as  it  is,  has  been  stimulated  by  a  de- 
sire to  increase  the  moral  worth  of  my  coun- 
trywomen, and  enhance  the  domestic  happi- 
ness of  my  native  land.  In  order  that  this 
should  be  done  effectually,  it  seems  to  me  in- 
dispensably necessary,  that  women,  whose 
parents  are  possessed  of  slender  means,  or 
engaged  in  business,  and  who  can  with  ex- 
treme difficulty  accomplish  even  so  much  as 
what  is  called  "making  their  way," — that 


104 


HABITS  AND  CHARACTER  OP 


women  in  this  class  should  be  educated,  not 
simply  for  ladies,  but  for  useful  and  active 
members  of  society — and  for  this  purpose, 
that  they  also  should  consider  it  no  degrada- 
tion to  render  their  activity  conducive  to  the 
purposes  of  trade. 

It  is  a  curious  anomaly  in  the  structure  of 
modern  society,  that  gentlemen  may  employ 
their  hours  of  business  in  almost  any  degrad- 
ing occupation,  and  if  they  have  but  the 
means  of  supporting  a  respectable  establish- 
ment at  home,  may  be  gentlemen  still ;  while, 
if  a  lady  does  but  touch  any  article,  no  mat- 
ter how  delicate,  in  the  way  of  trade,  she 
loses  caste,  and  ceases  to  be  a  lady. 

I  say  this  with  all  possible  respect  for  those 
who  have  the  good  sense  and  the  moral 
courage  to  employ  themselves  in  the  business 
of  their  fathers  and  their  husbands,  rather 
than  to  remain  idle  and  dependent ;  because 
I  know  that  many  of  them  are  ladies  in  the 
best  acceptation  of  the  word — ladies  in  the 
delicacy  and  propriety  of  their  feelings,  and 
more  than  ladies  in  the  noble  dignity  of  their 
general  conduct  Still  I  doubt  not  they  have 
had  their  difficulties  to  encounter  from  the 
influence  of  public  opinion,  and  that  their 
generous  feelings  have  been  often  wounded 
by  the  vulgar  prejudices  prevailing  in  socie- 
ty against  their  mode  of  life. 

With  the  improvements  of  art,  and  the  in- 
crease of  manufactures,  there  must  be  an  in- 
creased demand  for  mechanics  and  work- 
people of  every  description  ;  and  supposing 
English  society  to  be  divided,  as  it  soon  must 
be,  into  four  classes,  there  surely  can  be  no 
reason  why  the  second  class  of  females  should 
not  be  so  trained  as  to  partake  in  the  advan- 
tages resulting  from  this  extended  sphere  of 
active  and  useful  occupation. 

The  only  field  at  present  open  for  what  is 
considered  lady-like  employment,  is  that  of 
educating  the  young;  and  hence  the  number 
of  accomplished  young  women,  too  refined 
for  common  usefulness,  whose  claims  to  pub- 
lic attention  as  governesses  tend  so  much  to 
reduce  the  value  of  their  services  in  that  im- 
portant sphere. 

There  are  however,  many  descriptions  of 


occupation  connected  with  business  in  its  va- 
ried forms,  which  are  by  no  means  polluting 
to  the  touch,  or  degrading  to  the  mind ;  and 
it  would  be  an  unspeakable  advantage  to 
hundreds  of  young  females,  if,  instead  of  use- 
less accomplishments,  they  could  be  instructed 
in  these.  In  addition  to  all  kinds  of  fancy 
millinery,  the  entire  monopoly  of  which  they 
might  surely  be  permitted  to  enjoy,  I  would 
point  out  especially  to  their  attention,  the  art 
of  drawing  patterns  for  the  muslin  and  calico 
printers,  an  occupation  which  appears  pecu- 
liarly adapted  to  the  female  taste,  and  which 
might  be  carried  on  without  the  least  en- 
croachment upon  the  seclusion  of  domestic 
life,  and  the  delicacy  of  the  female  character. 
I  have  been  led  to  understand  that  this  branch 
of  business  is  almost  exclusively  carried  on 
by  men ;  and  I  cannot  but  regret,  that  an 
employment,  which  offers  a  tempting  luxury 
to  those  who  suffer  from  the  combined  evils 
of  idleness  and  scanty  means,  should  not  also 
be  rendered  productive  of  pecuniary  benefit 
to  women. 

It  seems,  however,  to  be  from  this  pecuniary 
benefit  that  they  shrink  ;  for  when  we  observe 
the  nature  of  their  daily  occupations,  their 
common  stitchery,  their  worsted  work,  their 
copied  music,  their  ingeniously-invented  arti- 
cles for  bazaars,  it  would  be  difficult  to  say  in 
what  sense  they  are  more  agreeable,  or  more 
dignified,  than  many  branches  of  art  con- 
nected with  trade.  It  must,  therefore,  be  the 
fact  of  receiving  money  for  what  they  do, 
which  renders  the  latter  so  objectionable ; 
and  it  is  a  strange  paradox  in  our  daily  ex- 
perience, that  this  money  should  all  the  while 
be  the  very  thing  of  which  they  are  most  in 
want 

The  degradation  of  what  is  vulgarly  called 
making  their  own  living,  is,  I  believe,  the  ob- 
stacle of  paramount  difficulty ;  and  therefore 
it  is  to  reduce  this  difficulty,  and  to  render  it 
more  easily  surmountable,  that  our  solicitude 
for  the  well-being  of  society,  with  all  our 
influence,  and  all  our  talent,  ought  to  be 
employed. 

It  is  in  vain  to  argue  in  such  cases,  that 
individuals  have  no  right  to  think  and  feel  as 


THE  WOMEN  OF  ENGLAND. 


105 


they  do — that  women  ought  to  be  wiser  than 
to  consider  themselves  degraded  by  working 
for  their  own  subsistence  ;  while  such  is  the 
constitution  of  society,  and  such  the  early 
bias  of  the  female  mind,  that  it  is  almost  im- 
possible they  should  do  otherwise.  The  great 
point  to  be  gained,  is  to  penetrate  at  once  to 
the  root  of  the  matter,  and  to  begin  by  a  dif- 
ferent system  of  education,  to  render  moral 
courage — the  courage  to  do  what  is  right — 
the  first  principle  of  female  conduct. 

What  a  world  of  misery  this  single  prin- 
ciple of  action,  thoroughly  grafted  into  the 
character,  would  spare  the  sons  and  daugh- 
ters of  men ! 

I  am  inclined  to  think  the  foundation  of 
moral  courage  must  be  laid  in  very  early  life, 
so  as  to  render  it  effectual  in  bearing  us  up 
under  the  trials  of  maturer  age  ;  and  it  is  not 
only  to  elevate  the  general  character  of  my 
countrywomen,  but  to  spare  them  at  least 
half  the  sufferings  they  now  endure,  that  I 
would  most  earnestly  recommend  them,  in 
cultivating  the  mind,  to  cultivate  also  the  in- 
estimable power  of  exercising  moral  courage, 
whenever  the  claims  of  duty  are  set  in  oppo- 
sition to  the  opinions  of  the  world. 

For  want  of  moral  courage,  how  many 
misunderstandings  do  we  leave  unsettled 
among  our  friends,  until 

"  The  lightly  uttered,  careless  word," 

the  thoughtless  action,  or  the  false  report,  are 
allowed  to  poison  the  very  springs  of  affec- 
tion, and  to  separate  the  dearest  friends ! 
For  want  of  moral  courage,  how  often,  and 
how  fatally,  do  we  fail  in  the  sacred  duty  of 
reproving  what  we  see  amiss,  until  the  evil 
grows  and  magnifies,  and  extends  itself,  and 
becomes  so  obvious  to  general  perception, 
that  we  scruple  not  to  join  in  its  condemna- 
tion, forgetting  that  our  own  want  of  faith- 
fulness may  possibly  be  chargeable  with  its 
existence ! 

For  want  of  moral  courage,  how  do  we 
sink,  and  see  others  sinking  every  day,  un- 
der the  pressure  of  those  pecuniary  difficul- 
ties which  I  have  already  described,  until  we 
are  guilty  of  almost  every  species  of  paltry 


meanness,  to  support  an  appearance  of  re- 
spectability before  the  world,  forgetting  that 
the  grand  foundation  of  all  respectability  of 
character,  is  an  honorable,  independent,  and 
upright  mind  !  For  want  of  moral  courage, 
how  often  do  we  stoop  and  cringe,  and  sub- 
mit to  contumely,  and  eat  the  bread  of  hu- 
miliation, and  wear  the  rich  garments  that 
ought  to  cover  us  with  shame,  because  we 
are  despicable  enough  to  live  upon  what  is 
not  lawfully  our  own,  and  what  is  often 
granted  without  good-will,  and  received  with- 
out satisfaction ! 

Oh!  that  the  women  of  England  would 
rouse  themselves  with  one  accord,  to  break 
these  galling  chains ! — to  exemplify  in  their 
own  conduct,  and  to  teach  their  daughters, 
that  there  is  no  earthly  enjoyment,  no  per- 
sonal embellishment,  no  selfish  gratification, 
worth  the  sacrifice  of  just  and  honorable 
feeling — that  the  humblest  occupation,  un- 
dertaken from  a  sense  of  duty,  becomes  en- 
nobled in  the  motive  by  which  it  is  prompted, 
and  that  the  severest  self-denial  may  be 
blessed  and  honored  by  the  Father  of  mer- 
cies, if  endured  in  preference  to  an  infringe- 
ment upon  those  laws  which  he  has  laid 
down  for  the  government  of  the  human 
family. 

There  is  another  point  of  view,  in  which  it 
appears  to  me  that  the  present  character  of 
the  women  of  England  is  extremely  defective. 
It  is  as  regards  a  right  balance  of  mind  ;  or, 
in  other  words,  a  just  estimate  of  the  rela- 
tive importance  of  things  in  general. 

From  the  natural  construction  of  the  mind 
of  woman,  from  the  quickness  of  her  per- 
ceptions, and  the  intensity  of  her  momentary 
feelings,  she  is  apt  to  lay  hold  of  every  thing 
calculated  immediately  to  strike  her  fancy,  or 
to  excite  her  emotions,  with  an  earnestness 
that  excludes  the  possibility  of  her  mind  be- 
ing kept  alive  to  other  impressions,  even 
more  essential  to  her  happiness,  and  more 
important  in  themselves. 

Hence,  we  find  in  society,  that  women  too 
frequently  invest  the  affairs  of  the  moment, 
the  circumstances  occurring  around  them, 
and  their  own  personal  experience,  with  a 


106 


HABITS  AND  CHARACTER  OF 


degree  of  interest  wholly  incomprehensible 
to  strangers,  and  often  utterly  contemptible 
to  men.  I  do  not — I  will  not  believe — that 
women  are  inferior  to  what  is  called  the 
noble  sex,  in  the  moral  world ;  but  I  do  be- 
lieve that  from  this  very  cause  arises  more 
than  half  the  contumely  bestowed  upon  their 
littleness  of  character.  It  is  not  that  they 
want  capacity  or  understanding  to  judge  of 
many  things  as  well  as  men.  It  is  that  they 
are  so  occupied  with  what  is  obvious  on  the 
surface  of  things,  that  they  will  not  look  be- 
yond ;  and  hence  their  unceasing  propensity 
to  trifle,  and  to  render  themselves  apparently 
inferior  to  what  they  really  are. 

This  is  the  great  leading  defect  in  woman's 
character ;  and  it  is  the  more  to  be  regretted, 
that  it  presents  to  her  mind  innumerable 
sources  of  disquietude,  which,  with  a  more 
correct  perception  of  the  relative  value  of 
things,  she  might  escape.  She  is  apt,  for  in- 
stance, to  attach  as  much  importance,  for  the 
time,  to  the  failure  of  her  own  musical  per- 
formance, as  to  the  failure  of  a  bank ;  and 
she  appears  to  care  little  for  the  invasion  of 
a  foreign  country,  when  injury  is  threatened 
to  her  best  attire.  It  is  no  trifling  humilia- 
tion to  those  who  mix  in  society,  if  they  have 
been  accustomed  to  raise  their  views  a  little 
higher  in  the  contemplation  of  nature  and 
of  human  life,  to  be  perpetually  persecuted, 
in  the  midst  of  agreeable  and  intelligent  con- 
versation, with  questions  about  the  minutiae 
of  dress  and  conduct  in  some  limited  and 
local  sphere  of  observation. 

I  would  not  speak  thus  contemptuously  of 
the  familiar  habits  of  my  sex,  if  I  did  not 
know  that  they  were  capable  of  something 
better,  and  if  I  did  not  desire — as  I  desire  their 
good  and  their  happiness — that  they  would 
rouse  themselves  above  this  paltry  littleness, 
and  learn  to  become,  what  I  am  confident 
they  might  be,  not  only  equal,  but  interesting 
and  instructive  companions  to  men. 

I  have  before  remarked,  that  there  is  now, 
more  than  ever,  a  demand  for  the  exercise 
of  their  highest  powers,  and  their  noblest 
energies,  to  counteract  the  effects  of  unre- 
mitting toil  in  obtaining  the  perishing  things 


of  this  life.  There  is  a  greater  demand  than 
ever  upon  their  capabilities  of  enhancing  so- 
cial and  domestic  happiness ;  and  there  is 
an  equal  demand  for  the  exercise  I  have 
already  recommended,  of  the  power  they 
possess  of  investing  what  is  material  with 
the  attributes  of  mind. 

The  littleness  of  character  I  have  just  de- 
scribed is  one  of  the  chief  causes  why  they 
are  not  so  estimable  as  they  might  be  in  their 
homes,  or  so  interesting  as  they  are  capable 
of  being  in  then*  conversation  with  men. 
And  thus  their  husbands  and  their  brothers 
are  becoming  increasingly  attracted  by  the 
political  associations,  and  the  public  calls 
now  leading  them  away  from  those  domestic 
scenes  which  offer  little  to  excite  the  atten- 
tion, or  fascinate  the  mind. 

It  may  be  said,  that  English  women  in  the 
present  day  are,  in  this  respect  at  least,  su- 
perior to  the  generation  before  them.  But 
granting  that  they  are  so,  the  necessity  for 
further  improvement  remains  the  same,  be- 
cause the  habits  of  men  are  progressively 
involving  them  more  deeply  in  the  interests 
of  public  life,  so  that  unless  some  strenuous 
efforts  are  made  on  the  part  of  women,  the 
far-famed  homes  of  England  will  lose  their 
boasted  happiness,  and  with  their  happiness, 
their  value  in  the  scale  of  our  country's 
moral  worth. 

This  is  a  serious  subject,  and  one  which 
ought  to  appeal  to  every  mother's  bosom 
throughout  our  favored  land.  It  ought  to 
be  the  solemn  inquiry  of  every  woman  who 
has  the  sacred  duty  of  training  up  the  young 
committed  to  her  trust,  in  what  manner  she 
may  best  guard  against  this  growing  evil,  so 
as  to  stem  the  desolating  tide  which  seems 
to  threaten  our  domestic  peace. 

Let  her,  then,  after  this  solemn  inquiry  has 
been  made,  endeavor  to  place  herself,  in  idea, 
in  the  situation  of  a  traveller  who  ascends  a 
mountain,  and  look  upon  the  varied  aspects 
of  human  life  as  he  regards  the  scene  pre- 
sented to  his  view.  At  first  he  will  be  struck 
with  the  magnitude  of  the  rock  he  is  climb- 
ing, amused,  perhaps,  with  the  plants  that 
creep  along  its  surface,  and  astonished  with 


THE  WOMEN  OF  ENGLAND. 


107 


the  opening  out  of  distant  valleys,  and  broad 
rivers  rolling  between  other  hills,  amongst 
which  his  eye  had  never  penetrated  before. 
He  advances  a  little  higher,  and  sees  other 
views  extending  far  and  wide,  and  the  pin- 
nacle of  rock  he  at  first  thought  so  stupen- 
dous, diminishing  beneath  his  feet — higher 
still,  and  the  broad  river,  with  its  sweeping 
tide,  has  shrunk  into  a  silver  thread — still 
higher,  and  the  pinnacle  of  rock  is  imper- 
ceptible, and  he  feels  at  last  that  he  has 
gained  the  actual  summit  of  the  highest 
mountain,  where  he  can  compare  the  real 
height  and  distances  of  objects,  and  perceive 
how  limited  in  comparison  was  the  line 
which  formed  the  original  boundary  of  his 
vision — how  small  and  low,  and  compara- 
tively contemptible,  the  highest  eminence  to 
which  he  had  then  ascended. 

It  is  in  this  manner  that  we  ought  to  ac- 
custom ourselves  to  realize  those  views  of 
human  life,  and  that  estimate  of  sublunary 
things,  that  would  bring  all  to  the  standard 
of  their  real  worth. 

Judged  of  by  this  process,  and  tried  by  this 
rule,  how  differently  should  we  appreciate 
the  ordinary  and  familiar  affairs  of  life ! 
How  little  should  we  find  to  occupy  our 
thoughts,  or  engage  our  affections,  in  the 
trifles  that  now  constitute  the  actual  business 
of  our  lives — how  much  should  we  find  to 
admire  and  value  in  what  we  now  despise  ! 

It  is  to  mothers,  especially,  that  I  would 
recommend  this  method  of  adjusting  the  bal- 


ance of  the  infant  mind,  because  the  longer 
the  weights  are  allowed  to  remain  unequal, 
and  the  balance  untrue,  the  more  extensive 
must  be  the  evil  resulting  from  the  erroneous 
data  upon  which  the  youthful  mind  will  rea- 
son. And  let  them  remember,  that  while  the 
mistakes  of  their  management  will  probably 
be  exhibited  more  strikingly  in  the  conduct 
of  their  sons,  their  daughters  will  extend  the 
evil  to  a  wider  range  of  operation,  by  in- 
stilling it  again  into  the  minds  of  another 
generation. 

It  is  not  through  a  lifetime  only,  though 
that  were  sufficient  for  our  follies — it  may  be 
through  the  endless  ages  of  eternity,  that  our 
good  or  evil  influence  shall  extend.  I  have 
pointed  out  to  my  countrywomen,  as  I  pur- 
sued this  work,  the  high  ambition  of  preserv- 
ing a  nation  from  the  dangers  which  threaten 
the  destruction  of  its  moral  worth  ;  but  be- 
yond this  view,  wide  and  exalted  as  it  un- 
questionably is,  there  opens  out  a  field  of 
glory,  upon  which  to  enter  might  seem  bless- 
edness enough.  Yet,  when  we  contemplate 
the  possibility  of  being  the  means  of  inducing 
others  to  enter  with  us,  and  those  the  most 
beloved  of  earth's  treasures,  surely  it  is 
worthy  of  our  best  energies — our  most  fer- 
vent zeal — our  tears — our-  prayers — that  we 
may  so  use  our  influence,  and  so  employ  our 
means,  as  that  those  whose  happiness  has 
been  committed  to  our  care,  may  partake 
with  us  in  the  enjoyment  of  the  mansions  of 
eternal  rest. 


THE 


DAUGHTERS  OF  ENGLAND: 


THEIR 


POSITION  IN  SOCIETY,  CHARACTER,  AND  RESPONSIBILITIES. 


BY  MRS.  ELLIS, 


AUTHOR  OF  "THE  WOMEN  OF  ENGLAND,"  "SONS  OF  THE  SOIL,"  "HINTS  TO  MAKE 
HOME  HAPPY,"  AND  "THE  WIVES  OF  ENGLAND." 


UNIFORM  EDITION, 

COMPLETE     IN     ONE     VOLUME. 


NEW-YORK: 

HENRY   G.  LANGLEY,  8  ASTOR   HOUSE. 

1845. 


PREFACE. 


THERE  can  be  no  more  gratifying  cir- 
cumstance to  a  writer,  than  to  find  that  a 
subject  which  has  occupied  her  thoughts, 
and  employed  her  pen,  has  also  been  oc- 
cupying the  thoughts  of  thousands  of  her 
fellow-beings  ;  but  she  is  gratified  in .  a 
still  higher  degree  to  find,  that  the  pecu- 
liar views  she  entertains  on  that  subject, 
are  beginning  to  be  entertained  by  a  vast 
number  of  the  intelligent  and  thinking 
part  of  the  community,  with  whom  she 
was  not  previously  aware  of  sharing, 
either  in  their  sympathy,  or  their  con- 
victions. 

Such  are  the  circumstances  under 
which  "  The  Women  of  England  "  has 
been  received  by  the  public,  with  a  degree 
of  favor,  which  the  merits  of  the  work 
alone  would  never  have  procured  for  it. 
And  as  no  homage  of  mere  admiration 
could  have  been  so  welcome  to  the  Author, 
as  the  approval  it  has  met  with  at  many 
an  English  hearth,  she  has  been  induced 
to  ask  the  attention  of  the  public  again, 
to  a  further  exemplification  of  some  sub- 
jects but  slightly  touched  upon,  and  a 
candid  examination  of  others  which  found 
no  place  in  that  work. 

The  more  minute  the  details  of  indi- 
vidual, domestic,  and  social  duty,  to  which 
allusion  is  made,  the  more  necessary  it 
becomes  to  make  a  distinct  classification 
of  the  different  eras  in  woman's  personal 
experience ;  the  Author,  therefore,  pro- 
poses dividing  the  subject  into  three  parts, 
in  which  will  be  separately  considered, 
the  character  and  situation  of  the  Daugh- 
ters, Wives,  and  Mothers  of  England. 


The  Daughters  of  England  only  form 
the  subject  of  the  present  volume :  and 
as  in  a  former  work  the  remarks  which 
were  offered  to  the  public  upon  the  social 
and  domestic  duties  of  woman,  were  ex- 
pressly limited  to  the  middle  ranks  of  so- 
ciety in  Great  Britain  >  so,  in  the  present, 
it  must  be  clearly  understood  as  the  in- 
tention of  the  writer  to  address  herself 
especially  to  the  same  interesting  and  in- 
fluential class  of  her  countrywomen. 
Much  that  is  contained  in  that  volume, 
too,  might  with  propriety  have  been  re- 
peated here,  had  not  the  Author  preferred 
referring  the  reader  again  to  those  pages, 
assured  that  she  will  be  more  readily  par- 
doned for  this  liberty,  than  for  transcrib- 
ing a  fainter  copy  of  what  was  written  in 
the  first  instance  fresh  from  the  heart. 

It  seems  to  be  the  peculiar  taste  of  the 
present  day  to  write,  and  to  read,  on  the 
subject  of  woman.  Some  apology  for 
thus  taxing  the  patience  of  the  public 
might  be  necessary,  were  it  not  that  both 
honor  and  justice  are  due  to  a  theme,  in 
which  a  female  sovereign  may,  without 
presumption,  be  supposed  to  sympathize 
with  her  people.  Thus,  while  the  char- 
acter of  the  daughter,  the  wife,  and  the 
mother,  are  so  beautifully  exemplified  in 
connection  with  the  dignity  of  a  British 
Queen,  it  is  the  privilege  of  the  humblest, 
as  well  as  the  most  exalted  of  her  sub- 
jects, to  know  that  the  heart  of  woman, 
in  all  her  tenderest  and  holiest  feelings, 
is  the  same  beneath  the  shelter  of  a  cot- 
tage, as  under  the  canopy  of  a  throne. 
ROSE  HILL,  January  10th,  1842. 


THE 


CHAPTER  I. 

IMPORTANT   INQUIRIES. 

IF  it  were  possible  for  a  human  being  to  be 
suddenly,  and  for  the  first  time,  awakened  to 
consciousness,  with  the  full  possession  of  all 
its  reasoning  faculties,  the  natural  inquiry  of 
such  a  being  would  be,  "What  am  II — how 
am  I  to  act? — and,  what  are  my  capabilities 
for  action  V 

The  sphere  upon  which  a  young  woman 
enters  on  first  leaving  school,  or,  to  use  a 
popular  phrase,  on  "  completing  her  educa- 
tion," is  so  entirely  new  to  her,  her  mind  is 
so  often  the  subject  of  new  impressions,  and 
her  attention  so  frequently  absorbed  by  new 
motives  for  exertion,  that,  if  at  all  accustomed 
to  reflect,  we  cannot  doubt  but  she  will  make 
these,  or  similar  questions,  the  subject  of  seri- 
ous inquiry — "  What  is  my  position  in  socie- 
ty ?  what  do  I  aim  at?  and  what  means  do  I 
intend  to  employ  for -the  accomplishment  of 
my  purpose  ?"  And  it  is  to  assist  any  of  the 
daughters  of  England,  who  may  be  making 
these  inquiries  in  sincerity  of  heart,  that  I 
would  ask  their  attention  to  the  following 
pages  ;  just  as  an  experienced  traveller,  who 
had  himself  often  stepped  aside  from  the. 
safest  path,  and  found  the  difficulty  of  re- 
turning, would  be  anxious  to  leave  directions 
for  others  who  might  follow,  in  order  that 
they  might  avoid  the  dangers  with  which  he 
had  already  become  acquainted,  and  pursue 
their  course  with  greater  certainty  of  attain- 
ing the  end  desired. 

First,  then,  What  is  your  position  in  socie- 
ty ?  for,  until  this  point  is  clearly  settled  in 
your  own  mind,  it  would  be  vain  to  attempt 


any  description  of  the  plan  to  be  pursued. 
The  settlement  of  this  point,  however,  must 
depend  upon  yourselves.  Whether  your  are 
rich,  or  poor,  an  orphan,  or  the  child  of 
watchful  parents — one  of  a  numerous  fami- 
ly, or  comparatively  alone — filling  an  exalted 
or  an  humble  position — of  highly  gifted  mind, 
or  otherwise — all  these  points  must  be  clear- 
ly ascertained  before  you  can  properly  under- 
stand the  kind  of  duty  required  of  you. 
How  these  questions  might  be  answered,  is 
of  no  importance  to  the  writer,  in  the  present 
stage  of  this  work.  The  importance  of  their 
being  clearly  and  faithfully  answered  to  your- 
selves, is  all  she  would  enforce. 

For  my  own  purpose,  it  is  not  necessary 
to  go  further  into  your  particular  history  or 
circumstances,  than  to  regard  you  as  women, 
and,  as  I  hope,  Christian  women.  As  Chris- 
tian women,  then,  I  address  you.  This  is 
placing  you  on  high  ground ;  yet  surely  there 
are  few  of  my  young  countrywomen  who 
would  be  willing  to  take  lower. 

As  women,  then,  the  first  thing  of  import- 
ance is  to  be  content  to  be  inferior  to  men — 
inferior  in  mental  power,  in  the  same  propor- 
tion that  you  are  inferior  in  bodily  strength 
Facility  of  movement,  aptitude,  and  grace 
the  bodily  frame  of  woman  may  possess  in  a 
higher  degree  than  that  of  man ;  just  as  in 
the  softer  touches  of  mental  and  spiritua 
beauty,  her  character  may  present  a  lovelie 
page  than  his.  Yet,  as  the  great  attribute  oi 
power  must  still  be  wanting  there,  it  become 
more  immediately  her  business  to  inquire 
how  this  want  may  be  supplied. 

An  able  and  eloquent  writer  on  "  Wo- 
man's Mission,"  has  justly  observed  tha 


THE  DAUGHTERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


woman's  strength  is  in-hrt  influence.  And,  in 
order  to  render  this  influence  more  complete, 
you  will  find,  on  examination,  that  you  are 
by  nature  endowed  with  peculiar  faculties — 
with  a  quickness  of  perception,  facility  of 
adaptation,  and  acuteness  of  feeling,  which 
fit  you  especially  for  the  part  you  have  to 
act  in  life ;  and  which,  at  the  same  time, 
render  you,  in  a  higher  degree  than  men, 
susceptible  both  of  pain  and  pleasure. 

These  are  your  qualifications  as  mere  wo- 
men. As  Christians,  how  wide  is  the  pros- 
pect which  opens  before  you — how  various 
the  claims  upon  your  attention — how  vast 
your  capabilities — how  deep  the  responsibility 
which  those  capabilities  involve !  In  the 
first  place,  you  are  not  alone ;  you  are  one 
of  a  family— of  a  social  circle— of  a  commu- 
nity— of  a  nation.  You  are  a  being  whose 
existence  will  never  terminate,  who  must  live 
for  ever,  and  whose  happiness  or  misery 
through  that  endless  future  which  lies  before 
you,  will  be  influenced  by  the  choice  you  are 
now  in  the  act  of  making. 

What,  then,  is  the  great  object  of  your 
Hfe  1  "  To  be  good  and  happy,"  you  will 
probably  say  ;  or,  "  To  be  happy  and  good." 
Which  is  it  1  For  there  is  an  important  dif- 
ference in  giving  precedence  to  one  or  the 
other  of  these  two  words.  In  one  case,  your 
aim  is  to  secure  to  yourself  all  the  advanta- 
ges you  can  possibly  enjoy,  and  wait  for  the 
satisfaction  they  produce,  before  you  begin 
the  great  business  of  self-improvement  In 
the  other,  you  look  at  your  duties  first,  ex- 
amine them  well,  submit  yourself  without 
reserve  to  their  claims,  and,  having  made 
them  habitual,  reap  your  reward  in  that  hap- 
piness of  which  no  human  being  can  deprive 
you,  and  which  no  earthly  event  can  entirely 
destroy. 

Is  it  your  intention  beyond  this  to  live  for 
yourself,  or  for  others  1  Perhaps  you  have 
no  definite  aim  as  relates  to  this  subject 
You  are  ashamed  to  think  of  living  only  for 
yourself,  and  deem  it  hard  to  live  entirely  for 
others  ;  you  therefore  put  away  the  thought, 
and  conclude  to  leave  this  important  subject 
until  some  future  day.  Do  not,  however,  be 


deceived  by  such  a  fallacious  conclusion. 
Each  day  of  your  life  will  prove  that  you 
have  decided,  and  are  acting  upon  the  decis- 
ion you  make  on  this  momentous  point 
Your  conduct  in  society  proves  it ;  your  be- 
havior in  your  family,  every  thought  which 
occupies  your  mind,  every  wish  you  breathe, 
every  plan  you  form,  every  pleasure  you  en- 
joy, every  pain  you  suffer — all  prove  whether 
it  is  your  object  to  live  for  yourself,  or  for 
others. 

Again,  is  it  your  aim  to  live  for  this  world 
only,  or  for  eternity  ?  This  is  the  question 
of  supreme  importance,  which  all  who  pro- 
fess to  be  Christians,  and  who  think  serious- 
ly, must  ask  and  answer  to  themselves. 
There  can  be  no  delay  here.  Time  is  silent- 
ly deciding  this  question  for  you.  Before 
another  day  has  passed,  you  will  be  so  much 
nearer  to  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  or  so  much 
further  from  it  Another  day,  another,  and 
another,  of  this  fearful  indecision,  will  be 
adding  to  your  distance  from  the  path  of 
peace,  and  rendering  your  task  more  difficult 
if  you  should  afterwards  seek  to  return. 

If  it  be  your  deliberate  desire  to  live  for 
this  world  only,  all  the  highest  faculties  of 
your  nature  may  then  lie  dormant,  for  there 
is  no  field  of  exercise  here,  to  make  the  cul- 
tivation of  them  worth  the  pains.  If  it  is 
your  deliberate  desire  to  live  for  this  world 
only,  the  improvement  of  the  bodily  senses 
becomes  more  properly  the  object  of  primary 
interest,  in  order  that  you  may  taste,  smell, 
feel,  hear,  and  see,  with  more  acuteness.  A 
little  invention,  a  little  calculation,  a  little  ob- 
servation of  cause  and  effect,  may  be  neces- 
sary, in  order  that  the  senses  may  be  grati- 
fied in  a  higher  degree  ;  but  beyond  this,  all 
would  indeed  be  worse  than  vanity,  that 
would  tend  to  raise  the  human  mind  to  a 
knowledge  of  its  own  capabilities,  and  yet 
leave  it  to  perish  with  the  frail  tenement  it 
inhabits. 

I  cannot,  however,  suppose  it  possible  that 
any  daughter  of  Christian  parents,  in  this 
enlightened  country,  would  deliberately  make 
so  blind,  so  despicable  a  choice.  And  if 
your  aim  be  to  live  for  eternity  ;  if  you 


IMPORTANT  INQUIRIES. 


would  really  make  this  an  object,  not  merely 
to  read  or  to  talk  about,  but  to  strive  after, 
as  the  highest  good  you  are  capable  Of 
conceiving,  then  is  the  great  mystery  of  your 
being  unravelled — then  is  a  field  of  exercise 
laid  open  for  the  noblest  faculties  of  your 
soul — then  has  faith  its  true  foundation,  hope 
its  unextinguishable  beacon,  and  charity  its 
sure  reward. 

I  must  now  take  it  for  granted,  that  the 
youthful  reader  of  these  pages  has  reflected 
seriously  upon  her  position  in  society  as  a 
woman,  has  acknowledged  her  inferiority  to 
man,  has  examined  her  own  nature,  and 
found  there  a  capability  of  feeling,  a  quick- 
ness of  perception,  and  a  facility  of  adapta- 
tion, beyond  what  he  possesses,  and  which, 
consequently,  fit  her  for  a  distinct  and  sepa- 
rate sphere  ;  and  I  would  also  gladly  per- 
suade myself,  that  the  same  individual,  as  a 
Christian  woman,  has  made  her  decision  not 
to  live  for  herself,  so  much  as  for  others ; 
but,  above  all,  not  to  live  for  this  world,  so 
much  as  for  eternity.  The  question  then 
arises — What  means  are  to  be  adopted  in 
the  pursuit  of  this  most  desirable  end  1 
Some  of  my  young  readers  will  perhaps  be 
disposed  to  exclaim,  "  Why,  this  is  but  the 
old  story  of  giving  up  the  world,  and  all  its 
pleasures  !"  But  let  them  not  be  too  hasty 
in  their  conclusions.  It  is  not  a  system  of 
giving  up  which  I  am  about  to  recommend 
to  them,  so  much  as  one  of  attaining.  -My 
advice  is  rather  to  advance  than  to  retreat, 
yet  to  be  sure  that  you  advance  in  the  right 
way.  Instead,  therefore,  of  depreciating  the 
value  of  their  advantages  and  acquirements, 
it  is  my  intention  to  point  out,  so  far  as  I  am 
able,  how  all  these  advantages  may  be  made 
conducive  to  the  great  end  I  have  already 
supposed  them  to  have  in  view — that  of  liv- 
ing for  others,  rather  than  for  themselves — 
of  living  for  eternity,  rather  than  for  time. 

I  have  already  stated,  that  I  suppose  my- 
self to  be  addressing  young  women  who  are 
professedly  Christians,  and  who  know  that 
the  profession  of  Christianity  as  the  religion 
of  the  Bible,  involves  responsibility  for  every 
talent  they  possess.  By  responsibility  I 


mean,  that  they  should  consider  themselves, 
during  the  whole  of  their  lives,  as  in  a  condi- 
to  say,  if  called  upon  to  answer,  whether 
they  have  made  use  of  the  best  means  they 
were  acquainted  with,  for  attaining  what  they 
believed  to  be  the  most  desirable  end. 

Youth  and  health  are  means  of  the  utmost 
importance  in  this  great  work.  Youth  is  the 
season  of  impressions,  and  can  never  be  re- 
called ;  health  is  a  blessing  of  such  boundless 
value,  that  when  lost  it  may  safely  be  said 
to  be  sighed  for  more  than  any  other,  for  the 
sake  of  the  countless  advantages  it  affords. 
Education  is  another  means,  which  you  are 
now  supposed  to  be  enjoying  in  its  fullest 
extent ;  for  I  have  already  said  that  I  sup- 
pose myself  to  be  addressing  young  women 
who  are  popularly  spoken  of  as  having  just 
completed  their  education.  Fresh  from  the 
master's  hand,  you  will  therefore  never  pos- 
sess in  greater  perfection  the  entire  sum  of 
your  scholastic  attainments  than  now.  Read- 
ing and  conversation,  it  is  true,  may  improve 
your  mind  ;  but  of  your  present  possessions, 
in  the  way  of  learning  and  accomplishments, 
how  many  will  be  lost  through  indolence  or 
neglect,  and  how  many  more  will  give  place 
to  claims  of  greater  urgency,  or  subjects  of 
more  lively  interest ! 

The  present  moment,  then,  is  the  time  to 
take  into  account  the  right  use  of  all  your 
knowledge  and  all  your  accomplishments. 
What  is  the  precise  amount  of  these,  we  will 
not  presume  to  ask  ;  but  let  it  not  be  forgot- 
ten, that  your  accountability  extends  to  the 
time,  the  trouble,  and  the  expense  bestowed 
on  your  education,  as  well  as  to  what  you 
may  have  actually  acquired.  How  many 
years  have  you  been  at  school  1 — We  will 
suppose  from  two  to  ten,  and  that  from  one 
hundred  pounds,  to  five  or  more,  have  been 
expended  upon  you  during  this  time ;  add  to 
this  the  number  of  teachers  employed  in  your 
instruction,  the  number  of  books  appropria- 
ted to  your  use,  the  time — to  say  nothing  of 
the  patience — bestowed  upon  you,  the  anxie- 
ty of  parents,  who  probably  spared  with  dif- 
ficulty the  sum  that  was  necessary  for  your 
education,  their  solicitude,  their  self-denial, 


- 


THE  DAUGHTERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


their  prayers  that  this  sum  might  be  well  ap- 
plied ;  reflect  upon  all  these,  and  you  will 
perceive  that  a  debt  has  been  contracted, 
which  you  have  to  discharge  to  your  parents, 
your  family,  and  to  society — that  you  have 
enjoyed  a  vast  amount  of  advantages,  for 
which  you  have  to  account  to  the  great 
Author  of  your  being. 

Such,  then,  is  your  position  in  life ;  a 
Christian  woman,  and  therefore  one  whose 
first  duty  is  to  ascertain  her  proper  place — a 
sensitive  and  intelligent  being,  more  quick  to 
feel  than  to  understand,  and  therefore  more 
under  the  necessity  of  learning  to  feel  right- 
ly— a  responsible  being,  with  numberless  tal- 
ents to  be  accounted  for,  and  believing  that 
no  talent  was  ever  given  in  vain,  but  that  all, 
however  apparently  trifling  in  themselves, 
are  capable  of  being  so  used  as  to  promote 
the  great  end  of  our  being,  the  happiness  of 
our  fellow-creatures,  and  the  glory  of  our 
Creator. 

Let  not  my  young  friends,  however,  sup- 
pose that  I  am  about  to  lay  down  for  them 
some  system  of  Spartan  discipline,  some  iron 
rufe,  by  which  to  effect  the  subjugation  of  all 
that  is  buoyant  in  health,  and  delightful  in  the 
season  of  youth.  The  rule  I  would  propose 
to  them  is  one  by  which  they  may  become 
beloved  as  well  as  lovely — the  source  of  hap- 
piness to  others,  as  well  as  happy  in  them- 
selves. My  desire  is  to  assist  them  to  over- 
come the  three  great  enemies  to  their  tem- 
poral and  eternal  good — their  selfishness, 
indolence,  and  vanity,  and  to  establish  in  their 
?tead  feelings  of  benevolence  and  habits  of 
industry,  so  blended  with  Christian  meekness, 
that  while  affording  pleasure  to  all  who  live 
wiiliin  the  sphere  of  their  influence,  they  shall 
be  unconscious  of  the  charm  by  which  they 


I  have  already  stated,  that  women,  in  their 
position  in  life,  must  be  content  to  be  inferior 
to  men  ;  but  as  their  inferiority  consists  chiefly 
in  their  want  of  power,  this  deficiency  is 
abundantly  made  up  to  them  by  their  capa- 
bility of  exercising  influence  ;  it  is  made  up 
to  them  also  in  other  ways,  incalculable  in 
their  number  and  extent,  but  in  none  so  ef- 


fectually as  by  that  order  of  Divine  Provi- 
dence which  places  them,  in  a  moral  and  re- 
ligious point  of  view,  on  the  same  level  with 
man ;  nor  can  it  be  a  subject  of  regret  to  any 
right-minded  woman,  that  they  are  not  only 
exempt  from  the  most  laborious  occupations 
both  of  mind  and  body,  but  also  from  the 
necessity  of  engaging  in  those  eager  pecunia- 
ry speculations,  and  in  that  fierce  conflict  of 
worldly  interests,  by  which  men  are  so  deep- 
ly occupied  as  to  be  in  a  manner  compelled 
to  stifle  their  best  feelings,  until  they  become 
in  reality  the  characters  they  at  first  only  as- 
sumed. Can  it  be  a  subject  of  regret  to  any 
kind  and  feeling  woman,  that  her  sphere  of 
action  is  one  adapted  to  the  exercise  of  the 
affections,  where  she  may  love,  and  trust, 
and  hope,  and  serve,  to  the  utmost  of  her 
wishes]  Can  it  be  a  subject  of  regret  that 
she  is  not  called  upon,  so  much  as  man,  to 
calculate,  to  compete,  to  struggle,  but  rather 
to  occupy  a  sphere  in  which  the  elements  of 
discord  cannot  with  propriety  be  admitted — 
in  which  beauty  and  order  are  expected  to 
denote  her  presence,  and  where  the  exercise 
of  benevolence  is  the  duty  she  is  most  fre- 
quently called  upon  to  perform  1 

Women  almost  universally  consider  them- 
selves, and  wish  to  be  considered  by  others, 
as  extremely  affectionate ;  scarcely  can  a 
more  severe  libel  be  pronounced  upon  a  wo- 
man than  to  say  that  she  is  not  so.  Now 
the  whole  law  of  woman's  life  is  a  law  of  love. 
I  propose,  therefore,  to  treat  the  subject  in 
this  light — to  try  whether  the  neglect  of  their 
peculiar  duties  does  not  imply  an  absence  of 
love,  and  whether  the  principle  of  love,  tho- 
roughly carried  out,  would  not  so  influence 
their  conduct  and  feelings  as  to  render  them 
all  which  their  best  friends  could  desire. 

Let  us,  however,  clearly  understand  each 
other  at  the  outset.  To  love,  is  a  very  differ- 
ent thing  from  a  desire  to  be  beloved.  To 
love,  is  woman's  nature — to  be  beloved  is  the 
consequence  of  her  having  properly  exercised 
and  controlled  that  nature.  To  love,  is  wo- 
4nan's  duty — to  be  beloved,  is  her  reward. 

Does  the  subject,  when  considered  in  this 
point  of  view,  appear  less  attractive  1  "  No," 


IMPORTANT  INQUIRIES. 


9 


you  reply,  "  it  constitutes  the  happiness  of 
every  generous  soul,  to  love  ;  and  if  that  be 
the  secret  of  our  duty,  the  whole  life  of  wo- 
man must  be  a  pleasant  journey  on  a  path  of 
flowers." 

Some  writers  have  asserted,  that  along 
with  the  power  to  love,  we  all  possess,  in  an 
equal  degree,  the  power  to  hate.  I  am  not 
prepared  to  go  this  length,  because  I  would 
not  acknowledge  the  principle  of  hatred  in 
any  enlightened  mind  ;  yet  I  do  believe,  that 
in  proportion  to  our  capability  of  being  at- 
tracted by  certain  persons  or  things,  is  our 
liability  to  be  repelled  by  others,  and  that 
along  with  such  repulsion  there  is  a  feeling 
of  dislike,  which  belongs  to  women  in  a  higher 
degree  than  it  does  to  men,  in  the  same  pro- 
portion that  their  perceptions  are  more  acute, 
and  their  attention  more  easily  excited  by 
the  minuter  shades  of  difference  in  certain 
things.  Although  not  willingly  recognising 
the  sensation  of  hatred,  as  applied  to  any  thing 
but  sin,  I  am  compelled  to  use  the  word,  in 
order  to  render  my  meaning  more  obvious  ; 
and  certainly,  when  we  listen  to  the  unre- 
strained conversation  of  the  generality  of  young 
ladies,  we  cannot  hesitate  to  suppose  that 
the  sensation  of  hatred  towards  certain  per- 
sons or  things,  does,  in  reality,  form  part  of 
the  most  important  business  of  their  lives. 

To  love  and  to  hate,  then,  seem  to  be  the 
two  things  which  it  is  most  natural  and  most 
easy  for  women  to  do.  In  these  two  principles 
how  many  of  the  actions  of  their  lives  origi- 
nate !  How  important  is  it,  therefore,  that 
they  should  learn  in  early  life  to  love  and 
hate  aright ! 

Most  young  women  of  respectable  parent- 
age and  education,  believe  that  they  love 
virtue  and  hate  vice.  But  have  they  clearly 
ascertained  what  virtue  and  vice  are — have 
they  examined  the  meaning  of  these  two  im- 
portant words  by  the  light  of  the  world,  or 
by  the  light  of  divine  truth  !  Have  they  list- 
ened to  the  plausible  reasoning  of  what  is 
called  society ;  where  things  are  often  spoken 
of  by  false  names,  and  where  vulgar  vice  is 
distinguished  from  that  which  is  sanctioned 
by  good  breeding  1  or  have  they  gone  directly 


to  the  eternal  and  immutable  principles  of 
good  and  evil,  as  explained  in  the  Bible, 
which  they  profess  to  believe  ?  have  they  by 
this  test  tried  all  their  favorite  habits — their 
sweet  weaknesses — their  darling  idols  1  and 
have  they  been  willing  to  abide  the  result  of 
this  test — to  love  whatever  approaches  that 
standard  of  moral  excellence,  and  to  renounce 
whatever  is  offensive  to  the  pure  eye  of 
Omniscience  ]  Now,  when  we  reflect  that  all 
this  must  be  done  before  we  can  safely  give 
ourselves  up  either  to  love  or  hate,  we  shall 
probably  cease  to  think  that  our  great  duty 
is  so  easily  performed. 

Youth  is  the  season  for  regulating  these 
emotions  as  we  ought,  because  it  is  compara- 
tively easy  to  govern  our  affections  when 
first  awakened  ;  after  they  have  been  al- 
lowed for  some  time  to  flow  in  any  particular 
channel,  it  requires  a  painful  and  determined 
effort  to  restrain  or  divert  their  course  ;  nor 
does  the  constitution  of  the  human  mind  en- 
dure this  revulsion  of  feeling  unharmed.  As 
the  country  over  whose  surface  an  impetu- 
ous river  has  poured  its  waters,  retains,  after 
those  waters  are  gone,  the  sterile  track  they 
once  pursued,  marring  the  picture  as  with  a 
scar — a  seamy  track  of  barrenness  and 
drought ;  so  the  course  of  misplaced  affec- 
tion leaves  its  indelible  trace  upon  the  char- 
acter, breaking  the  harmony  of  what  might 
otherwise  have  been  most  attractive  in  its 
beauty  and  repose. 

There  is,  perhaps,  no  subject  on  which 
young  women  are  apt  to  make  so  many  and 
such  fatal  mistakes  as  in  the  regulation  of 
their  emotions  of  attraction  and  repulsion  ; 
and  chiefly  for  this  reason — because  there  is 
a  popular  notion  prevailing  among  them, 
that  it  is  exceedingly  becoming  to  act  from 
the  impulse  of  the  moment,  to  be  what  they 
call  "the  creatures  of  feeling,"  or,  in  other 
words,  to  exclude  the  high  attribute  of  rea- 
son from  those  very  emotions  which  are  given 
them,  especially,  to  serve  the  most  exalted 
purposes.  "  It  is  a  cold  philosophy,"  they 
say,  "to  calculate  before  you  feel;"  and  thus 
they  choose  to  act  from  impulse  rather  than 
from  principle. 


10 


THE  DAUGHTERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


The  unnatural  mother  does  this  when  she 
singles  out  a  favorite  child  as  the  recipient 
of  all  her  endearments,  leaving  the  neglected 
one  to  pine  away  its  little  life.  The  foolish 
mother  does  this,  when  she  withholds,  from 
imagined  tenderness,  the  wholesome  disci- 
pline which  infancy  requires— choosing  for 
her  unconscious  offspring  a  succession  of 
momentary  indulgences  which  are  sure  to 
entail  upon  them  years  of  suffering  in  after 
life.  The  fickle  friend  does  this,  when  she 
conceives  a  sudden  distaste  for  the  com- 
panion she  has  professed  to  love.  The  un- 
faithful wife  does  this,  when  she  allows  her 
thoughts  to  wander  from  her  rightful  lord. 
All  women  have  done  this,  who  have  com- 
mitted those  frightful  crimes  which  stain  the 
page  of  history — all  have  acted  from  impulse, 
and  by  far  the  greater  number  have  acted 
under  the  influence  of  misplaced  affection. 
It  is,  indeed,  appalling  to  contemplate  the  ex- 
tent of  ruin  and  of  wretchedness  to  which 
woman  may  be  carried  by  the  force  of  her 
own  impetuous  and  unregulated  feelings. 
Her  faults  are  not  those  oft  selfish  calcula- 
tion ;  she  makes  no  stipulation  for  her  own 
or  .others'  safety  ;  when  once  she  renounces 
principle,  therefore,  and  gives  herself  up  to 
act  as  the  mere  creature  of  impulse,  there  is 
no  hope  for  her,  except  that  experience,  by 
its  painful  chastisements,  may  bring  her  back 
to  wisdom  and  to  peace. 

Does  this  seem  a  hard  sentence  to  pro- 
nounce upon  those  impetuous  young  crea- 
tures who  make  it  their  boast  that  they  never 
stay  to  think,  that  they  cannot  reason,  and 
were  only  born  to  feel  ?  Hard  as  it  is,  ob- 
servation proves  it  true.  If  we  do  not  ac- 
knowledge any  regular  system  of  conduct, 
habit  will  render  that  systematical  which  is 
our  customary  choice  ;  and  if  we  choose  day 
by  day  to  act  from  impulse  rather  than  prin- 
ciple, we  yield  ourselves  to  a  fatal  and  delu- 
sive system,  the  worst  consequences  of 
which  will  follow  us  beyond  the  grave. 

As  youth  is  the  season  for  making  this  im- 
portant choice,  so  it  is  the  season  for  impres-  4 
sions.     You  will  never  remember  what  you 
acquire  in  after  life,  as  you  will  remember 


what  you  are  acquiring  now.  The  know- 
ledge you  now  obtain  of  evil  will  haunt  you 
through  future  years,  like  a  dark  spectre  in 
your  path  ;  while  the  glimpses  of  virtue 
which  you  now  perceive  irradiating  the  circle 
in  which  you  move,  will  re-appear  before 
you  to  the  end  of  life,  surrounded  by  the 
same  bright  halo  which  adorns  them  now. 
If  you  have  loved  the  virtuous  and  the  good 
— if  you  have  associated  yourselves  with 
their  pursuits,  and  made  their  aims  and  ob- 
jects yours  in  early  life — the  remembrance 
of  these  early  friends  will  form  a  bright  spot 
in  your  existence,  to  recur  to  as  long  as  that 
existence  lasts. 

It  is  therefore  of  the  highest  importance  to 
the  right  government  of  your  affections,  that 
you  should  endeavor  to  form  clear  notions 
of  good  and  evil,  in  order  that  you  may  know 
how  to  choose  the  one  and  refuse  the  other ; 
not  to  take  tltings  for  granted ;  not  to  believe 
that  is  always  best  which  is  most  approved 
by  the  world,  unless  you  would  prefer  the 
approbation  of  man  to  that  of  God  ;  but  to 
be  willing  to  see  the  truth,  whatever  it  may 
be,  and  as  such  to  embrace  it 

In  the  gospel  of  Christ  there  are  truths  so 
simple  and  so  clear,  so  perfectly  in  keeping 
one  with  another,  that  none  need  be  kept  in 
the  dark  as  to  the  principles  on  which  they 
ought  to  act,  if  they  are  but  willing  to  sub- 
mit themselves  to  this  rule. 

I  speak  here  of  the  practical  part  of  the 
Scriptures  only  ;  but  in  connection  with  the 
vivid  and  lasting  impressions  made  upon  the 
mind  of  youth,  I  would  strongly  enforce  the 
importance  of  choosing  that  season  for  ob- 
taining an  intimate  knowledge  of  the  Scrip- 
tures altogether.  You  can  scarcely  at  pres- 
ent be  aware  of  the  extreme  value  of  this 
knowledge  :  it  will  serve  you  in  after  life  as 
a  rich  and  precious  store  to  draw  upon,  not 
only  for  your  own  consolation,  and  the  re- 
newal of  your  own  faith,  but  for  the  comfort, 
guidance,  and  support  of  all  who  come  with- 
in the  sphere  of  your  influence,  or  depend 
upon  you  for  aid  in  the  great  work  of  pre- 
paring for  eternity.  Without  this  knowledge, 
how  feeble  will  be  your  arguments  on  the 


IMPORTANT  INQUIRIES. 


most  important  of  all  subjects,  how  useless 
your  assertions,  and  how  devoid  of  efficacy 
your  endeavors  to  disseminate  the  principles 
of  Divine  Truth !  How  enviable  does  the 
possession  of  this  knowledge  now  appear  to 
many  a  zealous  Christian  who  has  to  deplore 
the  consequences  of  a  neglected  youth  !  for  I 
repeat,  that  in  after  life  it  is  almost  impossi- 
ble to  impress  the  mind  with  the  same  vivid- 
ness, and  consequently  to  enrich  the  memory 
with  the  same  amount  of  useful  knowledge, 
as  when  the  aspect  of  the  world  is  new,  and 
the  feelings  comparatively  unoccupied  and 
unimpressed. 

The  same  observations  which  occur  in  re- 
lation to  the  reading  of  the  Scriptures  at  an 
early  period  of  life,  apply,  in  degree,  to  the 
acquisition  of  all  other  kinds  of  knowledge. 
Never  again  will  the  mind  be  so  free  from 
distraction  as  now  ;  never  again  will  the 
claims  of  duty  be  so  few ;  never  again  will 
the  memory  be  so  unoccupied.  If,  therefore, 
a  store  of  knowledge  is  not  laid  up  while  the 
mind  is  in  this  state,  it  will  be  found  wanting 
when  most  needed  ;  and  difficult  indeed  is 
the  task,  and  mortifying  the  situation,  of 
those  whose  information  has  to  be  sought,  in 
order  to  supply  the  demand  of  every  hour. 
As  well  might  the  cultivator  of  the  soil  allow 
his  grain  to  remain  in  the  fields,  until  hunger 
reminded  him  that  bread  was  wanted  on  his 
board ;  as  the  woman  who  expects  to  fill  a 
respectable  station  in  life,  go  forth  into  society 
unprovided  with  that  supply  of  knowledge 
and  information  which  she  will  there  find  per- 
petually required.  The  use  of  such  knowledge 
is  a  different  question,  and  remains  yet  to  be 
discussed  ;  but  on  the  importance  of  its  ac- 
quisition in  the  season  of  youth,  there  can  be 
but  one  opinion  among  experienced  and  ra- 
tional beings. 

Of  all  kinds  of  knowledge,  that  of  our  own 
ignorance  is  the  first  to  be  acquired.  It  is  an 
humbling  lesson  for  those  to  learn,  who  are 
built  up  on  the  foundation  of  what  is  called  a 
good  education  ;  yet  such  is  the  fact,  that  the 
knowledge  which  young  ladies  bring  home 
with  them  from  school,  forms  but  a  very 
small  part  of  that  which  they  will  be  expect- 


ed to  possess.  Indeed,  such  is  the  illimitable 
nature  of  knowledge,  that  persons  can  only 
be  said  to  know  much  or  little  by  compari- 
son. It  is  by  comparing  ourselves  with 
others,  and  especially  with  those  who  are 
more  advanced  in  life,  that  we  first  learn  the 
important  secret  of  our  own  deficiencies. 
And  it  is  good  to  keep  the  mind  open  to  this 
truth  ;  for  without  having  clearly  ascertained 
our  own  inferiority,  we  should  always  be  lia- 
ble to  make  the  most  egregious  mistakes  ; 
not  only  by  telling  those  around  us  what 
they  already  know,  and  wearying  our  ac- 
quaintance with  the  most  tedious  common- 
place,— but  by  the  worst  kind  of  false  as- 
sumption— by  placing  ourselves  in  exalted 
positions,  and  thereby  rendeiing  our  igno- 
rance more  conspicuous. 

All  this,  however,  though  a  fruitful  source 
of  folly  and  ridicule,  is  of  trifling  importance 
compared  with  the  absolute  want — the  mental 
poverty — the  moral  destitution,  necessarily 
occasioned  by  an  absence  of  true  knowledge ; 
we  must  begin,  therefore,  by  opening  our 
minds  to  the  truth,  not  by  adopting  the  opin- 
ions of  this  or  that  set  of  persons,  but  by 
reading  the  works  of  the  best  authors,  by 
keeping  the  mind  unbiassed  by  the  writings 
or  the  conversation  of  persons  infected  with 
prejudice,  and  by  endeavoring  to  view  every 
object  in  its  full  extent,  its  breadth,  its  reality, 
and  its  importance. 

It  is  the  grand  defect  in  woman's  intellect- 
ual condition,  that  she  seldom  makes  any 
equivalent  effort  to  do  this.  She  is  not  only 
too  often  occupied  with  the  mere  frivolities 
of  life,  to  estimate  the  true  value  of  general 
knowledge ;  but,  she  is  also  too  apt  to  hang 
her  credulity  upon  her  affections,  and  to  take 
any  thing  for  granted  which  is  believed  by 
those  whom  she  loves.  It  is  true,  this  ser- 
vility of  mind  may  appear  to  some  like  act- 
ing out  the  law  of  love,  which  I  am  so  anx- 
ious to  advocate ;  but  how  is  it, If  their  dearest 
friends  are  in  error,  and  if  they  err  in  such 
a  way  as  to  endanger  their  temporal  and 
eternal  interests  1  Is  it  not  a  higher  and  no- 
bler effort  of  love,  to  see  and  rectify  such  er- 
ror, than  to  endeavor  to  imbibe  the  same,  for 


THE  DAUGHTERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


the  sake  of  being  companions  in  folly,  or  in 
sin? 

One  of  the  greatest  faults  in  the  system  of 
education  pursued  in  the  present  day,  is  that 
of  considering  youth  as  the  season  for  read- 
ing short  and  easy  books.  Although  the 
ablest  of  female  writers — I  had  almost  said 
the  wisest  of  women — has  left  on  record  her 
testimony  against  this  practice,  it  continues 
to  be  the  fashion,  to  place  in,  the  hands  of 
young  persons,  all  kinds  of  abstracts,  sum- 
maries, and  short  means  of  arriving  at  facts ; 
as  if  the  only  use  of  knowledge  was  to  be 
able  to  repeat  by  rote  a  list  of  the  dates  of 
public  events. 

Now,  if  ever  an  entire  history  or  a  com- 
plete work  is  worth  reading,  it  must  be  at  an 
early  period  of  life,  when  attention  and  leisure 
are  both  at  our  command.  By  the  early  and 
studious  reading  of  books  of  this  description, 
those  important  events  which  it  is  of  so  much 
consequence  to  impress  upon  the  mind,  be- 
come interwoven  in  the  memory,  with  the 
spirit  and  style  of  the  author  ;  so  that  instead 
of  the  youthful  reader  becoming  possessed 
of  nothing  more  than  a  mere  table  of  facts, 
she  is  in  reality  associating  herself  with  a  be- 
ing of  the  highest  order  of  mind,  seeing  with 
the  eyes  of  the  author,  breathing  his  atmo- 
sphere, thinking  his  thoughts,  and  imbibing, 
through  a  thousand  indirect  channels,  the 
very  essence  of  his  genius. 

This  is  the  only  kind  of  reading  which  is 
really  worthy  of  the  name.  Abstracts  and 
compendiums  may  very  properly  be  glanced 
over  in  after  life,  for  the  sake  of  refreshing 
the  memory  as  to  dates  and  facts ;  but  unless 
the  works  of  the  best  authors  have  been 
read  in  this  manner  in  early  life,  there  will 
always  be  something  vapid  in  our  conversa- 
tion, contracted  in  our  views,  prejudiced  in 
our  mode  of  judging,  and  vulgar  in  our 
habits  of  thinking  and  speaking  of  things  in 
general.  In  vain  may  we  attempt  to  hide 
this  great  deficiency.  Art  may  in  some 
measure  conceal  what  is  wanting ;  but  it  can- 
not bring  to  light  what  does  not  exist  Pru- 
dence may  seal  the  lips,  and  female  tact  may 
point  out  when  to  speak  with  safety,  and 


when  to  withhold  a  remark ;  but  all  those 
enlightened  views,  all  that  bold  launching 
forth  into  the  region  of  intellect,  all  the  com- 
panionship of  gifted  minds,  which  intelligent 
women,  even  in  their  inferior  capacity,  may 
at  least  delight  in,  will  be  wanting  to  the  hap- 
piness of  her  who  chooses  to  waste  the  pre- 
cious hours  of  youth  in  idleness  or  frivolity. 

Nor  is  it  easy  for  after  study  to  make  up 
the  deficiency  of  what  ought  to  have  been 
acquired  in  youth.  Bare  information  dragged 
in  to  supply  the  want  of  the  moment,  without 
arrangement,  and  without  previous  thought, 
too  often  resembles  in  its  crudeness  and  in- 
appropriate display,  a  provision  of  raw  fruits, 
and  undressed  food,  instead  of  the  luxuries 
of  an  elegant  and  well-furnished  board. 

I  have  heard  it  pleaded  by  young  women, 
that  they  did  "not  care  for  knowledge  " — "did 
not  wish  to  be  clever."  And  if  such  persons 
would  be  satisfied  to  fill  the  lowest  place  in 
society,  to  creep  through  the  world  alone,  or 
to  have  silly  husbands,  and  idiot  sons,  we 
should  say  that  their  ambition  was  equal  to 
their  destiny.  But  when  we  see  the  same 
persons  jealous  of  their  rigRTs  as  intellectual 
beings,  aspiring  to  be  the  companions  of  ra- 
tional men,  and,  above  all,  the  early  instruct- 
ors of  immortal  beings,  we  blush  to  contem- 
plate such  lamentable  destitution  of  right  feel- 
ing, and  can  only  forgive  their  presumption 
in  consideration  to  their  ignorance  and  fol- 

If- 

I  cannot  believe  of  any  of  tho  young  per- 
sons who  may  read  these  pages,  that  they 
could  be  guilty  of  such  an  act  of  ingratitude 
to  the  great  Author  of  their  being,  and  the 
Giver  of  evey  good  and  perfect  gift  they  pos- 
sess, as  deliberately  to  choose  to  consign  to 
oblivion  and  neglect  the  intellectual  part  of 
their  nature,  which  may  justly  be  regarded 
as  the  highest  of  these  gifts.  I  would  rather 
suppose  them  already  acquainted  with  the 
fact,  that  those  passions  and  emotions,  to 
the  exercise  of  which  they  believe  themselves 
especially  called,  are  many  of  them  such  as 
are  common  to  the  inferior  orders  of  animals, 
while  the  possession  of  an  understanding 
capable  of  unlimited  extension,  is  an  attribute 


ECONOMY  OF  TIME. 


13 


of  the  Divine  nature,  and  one  which  raises 
them  to  a  level  with  the  angels. 


CHAPTER  II. 

ECONOMY  OF   TIME. 

IN  all  our  pursuits,  but  especially  in  the 
acquisition  of  knowledge,  it  is  highly  impor- 
tant to  habituate  ourselves  to  minute  calcu- 
lations upon  the  value  and  progress  of  time. 
That  writer  who  could  teach  us  how  to  esti- 
mate this  treasure,  and  how  to  realize  its 
fieetness,  would  confer  a  lasting  benefit  upon 
his  fellow-creatures.  We  all  know  how  to 
talk  of  time  flying  fast  It  is,  in  short,  the 
subject  of  our  most  familiar  proverbs,  the 
burden  of  the  minstrel's  song,  the  theme  of 
the  preacher's  discourse,  the  impress  we  affix 
to  our  lightest  pleasures,  the  inscription  that 
remains  upon  our  tombs.  Yet  how  little  do 
we  actually  realize  of  the  silent  and  ceaseless 
progress  of  time  !  It  is  true,  that  one  of  the 
first  exclamations  which  infant  lips  are  taught 
to  utter  is  the  word  "  gone ;"  and  the  beautiful 
expression,  "  gone  for  ever,"  occurs  with  fre- 
quency in  our  poetical  phraseology.  Clean 
gone  for  ever,  is  the  still  more  expressive  lan- 
guage of  Scripture  ;  and  if  any  combination 
of  words  could  be  made  to  convey  to  us  clear 
and  striking  impressions  of  this  idea,  it  would 
be  found  among  those  of  the  inspired  wri- 
ters. Yet  still  we  go  on  from  day  to  day,  in- 
sensible, and  unimpressed  by  this,  the  most 
sublime  and  appalling  reality  of  our  existenpe. 

The  fact  that  no  single  moment  of  our 
lives,  whether  happy  or  miserable,  whether 
wasted  or  well  employed,  can  ever  be  recall- 
ed, is  of  itself  one  of  the  most  momentous 
truths  with  which  we  are  acquainted — that 
each  hour  of  our  past  existence,  whether 
marked  by  wisdom  or  by  folly,  is  gone  for 
ever;  and  that  neither  ingenuity,  nor  effort, 
nor  purchase,  nor  prayer,  can  call  it  back. 
Nay,  so  far  is  it  removed  from  the  range  of 
possibility,  that  we  should  live  again  for  any 
portion  of  our  past  lives,  that  it  was  not  even 


am6ng  the  miracles  wrought  by  the  Saviour 
while  on  earth.  Other  apparent  impossibili- 
ties he  did  accomplish  before  the  eyes  of 
wondering  multitudes,  breaking  the  bonds  of 
nature,  and  even  raising  the  dead  to  life  ;  yet, 
we  find  not  among  these  mighty  works, 
that  he  said  to  any  single  day  in  man's  ex- 
perience, "  Thou  shall  dawn  again."  No. 
Even  the  familiar  face  of  yesterday  is  turned 
away  from  us  for  ever ;  and  though  so  close- 
ly followed  by  the  remembrance  of  the  past 
night,  as  well  might  we  attempt  to  grasp  the 
stars,  as  to  turn,  back  and  enjoy  its  sweet  re- 
pose again. 

What  then  is  the  consequence  ?  Since  time, 
this  great  ocean  of  wealth,  is  ebbing  away 
from  us  day  by  day,  and  hour  by  hour ;  since 
it  must  inevitably  diminish,  and  since  we 
know  the  lowest  rate  at  which  it  must  go, 
though  none  can  tell  how  soon  it  may  to  them 
be  gone  for  ever,  is  it  not  our  first  duty  to 
make  the  best  possible  use  of  what  remains, 
and  to  begin  in  earnest,  before  another  day 
shall  escape  from  our  hold  7 

We  will  suppose  the  case  of  a  man  who 
finds  himself  the  possessor  of  a  vast  estate, 
with  the  power  to  cultivate  it  as  he  will,  and 
to  derive  any  amount  of  revenue  from  it 
which  his  ingenuity  or  labor  may  obtain  for 
him  ;  yet,  with  this  condition — that  an  enemy 
shall  be  entitled  to  take  away  a  certain  por- 
tion of  it  every  day,  until  the  whole  is  gone. 
The  enemy  might,  under  certain  circumstan- 
ces, with  which  the  owner  could  not  be  ac- 
quainted, enjoy  the  liberty  of  taking  the  whole 
at  once  ;  but  a  certain  part  he  must  take 
every  day.  Now,  would  not  the  man  who 
held  this  property  on  such  a  tenure,  look 
sharply  to  his  own  interest,  and  endeavor  to 
discover  by  what  means  he  could  turn  his 
estate  to  the  best  account,  before  its  extent 
should  be  so  far  diminished  as  to  cripple  his 
means  ?  Reflecting,  too,  that  each  day  it  was 
becoming  less,  and  that  the  smaller  its  extent, 
the  smaller  would  be  the  returns,  he  might 
expect,  would  he  not  begin,  without  the  loss 
of  a  single  day,  so  to  improve  his  land,  to  till, 
to  sow,  and  to  prepare  for  getting  in  his  pro- 
duce, as  that  he  might  derive  a  lasting  rev- 


14 


THE  DAUGHTERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


enue  of  profit  from  the  largest  portion,  be- 
fore it  should  have  passed  out  of  his  own 
hands ! 

A  very  common  understanding,  and  a  very 
trifling  amount  of  knowledge,  would  prompt 
the  possessor  of  such  an  estate  to  do  this  ; 
yet,  with  regard  to  time,  that  most  valuable 
of  earthly  possessions,  how  few  of  us  act 
upon  this  principle  !  With  some,  the  extent 
of  this  estate  is  narrowing  to  a  very  small 
circle ;  but  with  the  class  of  human  beings 
whom  I  am  addressing,  there  is,  in  all  human 
probability,  a  wider  field  for  them  to  speculate 
upon.  Illness,  it  is  true,  may  come  and 
snatch  away  a  large  portion,  and  death  may 
be  waiting  to  grasp  the  whole:  how  much 
more  important  is  it,  then,  to  begin  to  cultivate 
and  reap  in  time  ! 

Perhaps  it  is  the  apparent  extent  of  our 
prospect  in  early  life,  which  deludes  us  into 
the  belief  that  the  enemy  is  actually  not  tak- 
ing any  thing  away.  Still  there  are  daily  and 
hourly  evidences  of  the  lapse  of  time,  which 
would  serve  to  remind  us  of  the  impossibi- 
lity of  calling  it  back,  if  we  would  but  regard 
them  in  this  light.  If,  for  instance,  we  have 
committed  an  egregious  folly,  if  we  have  act- 
ed unjustly,  thrown  blame  upon  the  innocent, 
or  spoken  unkindly  to  a  dear  friend — though 
it  was  but  yesterday,  last  night,1  or  this  morn- 
ing— not  all  our  tears,  though  we  might  weep 
oceans,  could  wash  away  that  single  act  or 
word  ;  because  the  moment  which  bore  that 
stain  upon  it,  would  be  gone — and  gone  for 
ever. 

Again,  we  scarcely  become  acquainted  with 
life  in  any  of  its  serious  aspects,  before  death 
is  presented  to  our  notice.  And  where  are 
they— "the  loved,  the  lost!"  Their  days 
have  been  numbered — all  those  long  days  of 
companionship  in  which  their  friends  might 
have  loved,  and  served  them  better,  are  gone 
for  ever.  "  And  why,"  we  ask,  when  the  blow 
falls  nearest  to  ourselves — when  the  delight 
of  our  eyes  is  taken  away  as  with  a  stroke — 
"  why  do  not  the  sun,  and  the  moon,  and  the 
stars,  delay  their  course  7 — why  do  the  flow- 
ers not  cease  to  bloom  ? — the  light  and  cheer- 
ful morning  not  fail  to  return  1  above  all,  why 


do  those  around  us  continue  their  accustom- 
ed avocations !  and  why  do  we  join  them  at 
last,  as  if  nothing  had  occurred  1"  It  is  be- 
cause time  passes  on,  and  on,  and  neither  life, 
nor  death,  nor  joy,  nor  sorrow,  nor  any  of  the 
changes  in  our  weal  or  wo,  present  the  mi- 
nutest hindrance  to  his  certain  progress,  or 
retard  for  a  single  moment  his  triumphant 
and  irresistible  career. 

Nor  is  it  simply  as  a  whole,  that  we  have 
to  take  into  account  the  momentous  subject 
of  time.  Every  year,  and  month,  and  day, 
have  their  separate  amount  of  responsibility ; 
but  especially  the  season  of  youth,  because 
the  habits  we  acquire  during  that  period, 
have  an  influence  upon  the  whole  of  our 
after  lives. 

The  habit  of  making  correct  calculations 
upon  how  much  can  be  done  in  any  stated 
portion  of  time,  is  the  first  thing  to  begin  with, 
for  without  this,  we  are  very  apt  to  go  on 
with  any  thing  that  may  happen  to  intejrest 
us,  to  the  culpable  neglect  of  more  important 
duties.  Thus,  though  it  may  be  well  for  a 
man  to  pluck  the  weeds  up  in  his  garden  for 
half  an  hour  after  breakfast ;  yet,  if  his  actual 
business  lies  in  the  counting-house,  or  the 
exchange,  it  would  be  worse  than  folly  for 
him  to  remain  plucking  weeds  up  for  half 
the  day. 

In  order  to  make  the  best  use  of  time,  we 
must  lay  out  beforehand  the  exact  amount 
proportioned  to  every  occupation  in  which 
we  expect  to  engage.  Casualties  will  per- 
petually occur  demanding  an  additional  al- 
lowance, and  something  must  consequently 
be  given  up  in  exchange ;  but  still  our  calcu- 
lations may  generally  be  made  with  a  degree 
of  certainty,  which  leaves  no  excuse  for  our 
being  habitually  at  a  loss  what  to  do. 

There  is  a  class  of  young  persons,  and  I 
fear  not  a  very  small  one,  who  rise  every 
morning  trusting  to  the  day  to  provide  its 
own  occupations  and  amusements.  They 
descend  from  their  chambers  with  a  listless, 
dreamy  hope  that  something  will  occur  to 
interest,  or  enliven  them,  never  imagining 
that  they  themselves  are  called  upon  to  enli- 
ven and  interest  others.  Such  individuals 


ECONOMY  OF  TIME. 


15 


being  liable  to  disappointment  every  day,  al- 
most always  learn  to  look  upon  themselves  as 
unfortunate  beings,  less  privileged  than  others, 
and,  in  short,  ill-treated  by  faith,  or  rather  t»y 
Providence,  in  being  placed  where  they  are. 

It  is  this  waiting  to  be  interested,  or  amus- 
ed, by  any  thing  that  may  chance  to  happen, 
which  constitutes  the  great  bane  of  a  young 
woman's  life,  and  while  dreaming  on  in  this 
most  unprofitable  state,  without  any  definite 
object  of  pursuit,  their  minds  become  the 
prey  of  a  host  of  enemies,  whose  attacks 
might  have  been  warded  off  by  a  little  whole- 
some and  determined  occupation.  Their 
feelings,  always  too  busy  for  their  peace,  be- 
come morbid,  restless,  and  ungovernable,  for 
want  of  proper  exercise ;  while  imagination, 
allowed  to  run  riot  over  a  boundless  field  of 
vague  and  half-formed  observations,  leads 
their  affections  in  her  train,  to  fix  upon  what- 
ever object  caprice  or  fancy  may  select. 

It  is  not  attributing  too  much  importance 
to  the  right  economy  of  time,  to  say  that  it 
might  prevent  all  this.  I  presume  not  to  lay 
down  rules  for  the  occupation  of  every  hour. 
Particular  duties  must  always  appertain  to 
particular  situations ;  and  since  the  necessary 
claims  upon  our  attention  are  as  varied  as 
our  individual  circumstances,  that  which  in 
one  would  be  a  right  employment  of  time, 
would  be  a  culpable  breach  of  duty  in  another. 

There  are,  however,  a  few  general  rules 
which  cannot  be  too  clearly  or  too  deeply  im- 
pressed upon  the  mind — rules  which  the 
rich  and  the  poor  would  be  equally  benefited 
by  adopting ;  which  the  meanest  and  the 
most  exalted  individual  would  alike  find  it 
safe  to  act  upon ;  and  by  which  the  wisest 
and  best  of  mankind  might  increase  their 
means  and  extend  their  sphere  of  usefulness 
to  their  fellow-creatures. 

The  first  of  these  rules  is  to  accustom 
yourselves  every  morning  to  say  what  you 
are  intending  to  do ;  and  every  night,  with 
equal  faithfulness,  to  say  what  you  have  ac- 
tually done  during  the  day.  If  you  find  any 
material  difference  between  what  you  have 
intended,  and  what  you  have  achieved,  try 
to  proportion  them  better,  and  the  next  day, 


either  lay  out  for  yourself,  or,  what  is  far 
better,  endeavor  to  accomplish  more.  This 
is  the  more  to  be  recommended,  because  we 
learn,  both  by  experience  and  observation, 
that  whenever  we  bring  down  our  good  in- 
tentions to  a  lower  scale,  it  is  a  certain  symp- 
tom of  some  failure  either  in  our  moral,  intel- 
lectual, or  physical  power.  Still  there  is 
much  allowance  to  be  made  for  the  inexperi- 
ence of  youth,  in  not  being  able  to  limit  good 
intentions  by  the  bounds  of  what  is  practica- 
ble;  it  is  therefore  preferable  that  a  little 
should  be  taken  off,  even  from  what  is  good 
in  itself,  rather  than  that  you  should  go  on 
miscalculating  time,  and  means,  to  the  end 
of  life. 

There  are  persons,  and  some  considerably 
advanced  in  years,  who  habitually  retire  to 
rest  every  night,  surprised  and  disappointed 
that  the  whole  of  their  day's  work  has  not 
been  done.  Now,  it  is  evident  that  such  per- 
sons must  be  essentially  wrong  in  one  of 
these  two  things — either  in  their  calculations 
upon  the  value  and  extent  of  time,  or  in  their 
estimate  of  their  own  capabilities;  and  in 
consequence  of  these  miscalculations,  they 
have  probably  been  making  the  most  serious 
mistakes  all  their  lives.  They  have  been 
promising  what  they  could  not  perform ;  de- 
ceiving and  disappointing  their  friends,  and 
those  who  were  dependent  upon  them ;  be- 
sides harassing  their  own  spirits,  and  de- 
stroying their  own  peace,  by  frightful  mis- 
calculations of  imperative  claims,  when  there 
was  no  residue  of  time  at  all  proportioned  to 
such  requirements. 

The  next  rule  I  would  lay  down  is,  if  pos- 
sible, of  more  importance  than  the  first  It 
is,  that  you  should  always  be  able  to  say  what 
you  are  doing,  and  not  merely  what  you 
are  going  to  do.  "I  am  going  to  be  so 
busy — I  am  going  to  get  to  my  work — I  am 
going  to  prepare  for  my  journey — I  am  going 
to  learn  Latin — I  am  going  to  visit  a  poor 
neighbor."  These,  and  ten  thousand  other 
"goings,"  with  the  frequent  addition  of  the 
word  "just"  before  them,  are  words  which 
form  a  net-work  of  delusion,  by  which  hun- 
dreds of  really  well-intentioned  young  persons 


16 


THE  DAUGHTERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


are  completely  entangled.  "  I  am  just  going  to 
do  this  or  that  good  work,"  sounds  so  much 
like  u  I  am  really  doing  it,"  that  the  con- 
science is  satisfied  for  the  moment ;  yet  how 
vast  is  the  difference  between  these  two  ex- 
pressions when  habit  has  fixed  them  upon  the 
character ! 

To  the  same  class  of  persons  who  habitu- 
ally say,  "  I  am  going,"  rather  than  "  I  am 
doing,"  belong  those  who  seldom  know  what 
they  really  are  about ;  who,  coming  into  a 
room  for  a  particular  purpose,  and  finding  a 
book  there  by  chance,  open  it,  and  sit  down 
to  read  for  half  an  hour,  or  an  hour,  believ- 
ing all  the  while  that  they  are  going  to  do  the 
thing  they  first  intended;  or  who,  setting 
out  to  walk  for  the  benefit  of  their  health, 
drop  in  upon  a  pleasant  acquaintance  by  the 
way,  still  thinking  they  are  going  to  walk, 
until  the  time  for  doing  so  has  expired,  when 
they  return  home,  with  cold  feet  and  aching 
heads,  half  fancying  that  they  have  really 
walked,  and  disappointed  that  exercise  has 
produced  no  better  effect 

Now,  in  these  two  cases,  there  may  be  as 
little  harm  in  reading  the  book  a's  in  calling 
upon  the  acquaintance,  and  nothing  wrong 
in  either :  but  the  habit  of  doing  habitually 
what  we  had  not  intended  to  do,  and  leaving 
undone  what  we  had  intended,  has  so  injuri- 
ous an  effect  in  weakening  our  resolutions, 
and  impairing  our  capacity  for  making  ex- 
act calculations  upon  time  and  means,  that 
one  might  pronounce,  without  much  hesita- 
tion, upon  a  person  accustomed  to  this  mode 
of  action,  the  sentence  of  utter  inability  to  fill 
any  situation  of  usefulness  or  importance 
among  mankind. 

I  am  inclined  to  think  we  should  all  be  suf- 
ficiently astonished,  if  we  would  try  the  ex- 
periment through  a  single  day,  of  passing 
quickly  and  promptly  from  one  occupation  to 
another.  It  is,  in  fact,  these  "  goings  to  do," 
which  constitute  so  large  an  amount  of  wast- 
ed time,  for  which  we  are  all  accountable. 
Few  persons  deliberately  intend  to  be  idle ; 
few  will  allow  that  they  have  been  so  from 
choice;  yet  how  vast  a  proportion  of  Jhe 
human  race  are  living  in  a  state  of  eelf-de- 



ception,  by  persuading  themselves  they  are 
not  idle,  when  they  are  merely  going  to  act. 
Promptness  in  doing  whatever  it  is  right  to 
do  now,  is  one  of  the  great  secrets  of  living. 
By  this  means,  we  find  our  capabilities  in- 
creased to  an  amazing  amount;  nor  can  we 
ever  know  what  they  really  are,  until  this 
plan  of  conduct  has  been  fully  tried. 

Wisely  has  it  been  said,  by  the  greatest  of 
moral  philosophers,  that  there  is  a  lime  for 
every  thing.  Let  it  be  observed,  however, 
that  he  has  not,  among  his  royal  maxims, 
spoken  of  a  time  for  doing  nothing;  and 
it  is  fearful  to  think  how  large  a  portion  of 
the  season  of  youth  is  spent  in  this  manner. 

Nor  is  it  absolute  idleness  alone  which 
claims  our  attention.  The  idleness  of  self- 
delusion  has  already  been  described.  But 
there  is,  besides  this,  a  busy  idleness,  which 
operates  with  equal  force  against  the  right 
economy  of  time.  Busy  idleness  arises  chiefly 
from  a  restlessness  of  feeling,  which,  without 
any  calculation  as  to  the  fitness  of  time  or 
place,  or  the  ultimate  utility  of  what  is  done, 
hurries  its  possessor  into  a  succession  of  tri- 
fling or  ill-timed  occupations,  frequently  as 
annoying  to  others  as  they  are  unproductive 
of  any  beneficial  result.  Busy  idleness  is 
also  a  disease  most  difficult  to  cure,  because 
it  satisfies  for  the  moment  that  thirst  for  oc- 
cupation with  which  every  human  being  is 
more  or  less  affected,  and  which  has  been 
implanted  in  our  nature  for  the  wisest  of  pur- 
poses. It  is  under  the  influence  of  this  pro- 
pensity to  busy  idleness,  that,  with  multitudes 
who  have  no  extraordinary  capability  for  re- 
ceiving pleasure,  amusement  is  made  to  sup- 
ply the  place  of  occupation,  and  childish  tri- 
fling that  of  intellectual  pursuit 

It  may  be  asked,  how  does  the  law  of  love 
operate  here?  I  answer,  precisely  in  this 
way — We  are  never  so  capable  of  being  use- 
ful to  others,  as  when  we  have  learned  to 
economize  our  own  time  ;  to  make  exact  cal- 
culations as  to  what  we  are  able,  or  not  able, 
to  do  in  any  given  period ;  and  so  to  employ 
ourselves  as  to  make  the  trifles  of  the  mo- 
ment give  place  to  more  important  avocations. 
Vv'ithout  having  cultivated  such  habits,  our 


ECONOMY  OF  TIME. 


17 


intentions,  nay,  our  promises,  must  often  fall 
short  of  what  we  actually  perform  ;  so  that 

i  in  time,  and  after  many  painful  disappoint- 
ments, our  friends  will  cease  to  depend  upon 
our  aid,  believing,  what  may  all  the  while  be 
unjust  to  our  feelings,  that  we  have  never 
entertained  any  earnest  desire  to  promote 
their  interest. 

Above  all  other  subjects,  however,  con- 
nected with  the  consideration  of  time,  the 
law  of  love  bears  most  directly  upon  that  of 
punctuality.  No  one  can  fail  in  this  point, 
without  committing  an  act  of  injury  to  an- 
other. If  the  portion  of  time  allotted  to  us  in 
this  life  be  aptly  compared  to  a  valuable 
estate,  of  which  an  enemy  robs  us  by  taking 
away  a  certain  portion  every  day  ;  surely  it 
is  a  hard  case  that  a  friend  must  usurp  the 
same  power,  and  take  away  another  portion, 
contrary  to  our  expectations,  and  without 
any  previous  stipulation  that  it  should  be  so. 
Yet,  of  how  much  of  this  precious  property 
do  we  deprive  our  friends  during  the  course 
of  a  lifetime,  by  our  want  of  punctuality  ? 
and  not  our  friends  only,  but  all  those  who 
are  in  any  way  connected  with,  or  dependent 
upon  us.  Our  friends,  indeed,  might  possi- 
bly forgive  us  the  injury  for  the  love  they 
bear  us ;  but  there  are  the  poor — the  hard- 
working poor,  whose  time  is  often  their 
wealth ;  and  strangers,  who  owe  us  no  kind- 
ness, and  who  consequently  are  not  able  'to 
endure  this  injury  without  feelings  of  irrita- 
tion or  resentment 

The  evil,  too,  is  one  which  extends  in  its 
consequence?,  and  widens  in  its  influence,  be- 
yond all  calculation.  Yet,  for  the  sake  of 
conveying  to  the  youthful  and  inexperienced 
reader,  some  idea  of  its  mode  of  operation, 
we  will  suppose  the  case  of  a  man  carrying 

I  letters  or  despatches  along  one  of  our  public 
roads,  and  so  calculating  his  time  as  to  ap- 
point to  be  met  at  some  post  on  the  road 
every  hour,  by  this  means  to  transmit  his 
despatches  by  other  couriers  along  branch- 
roads  to  distant  parts  of  the  country.  The 
person  whose  business  it  is  to  place  these 
despatches  in  his  hand  at  a  certain  time  and 
place,  is  half  an  hour  too  late  ;  consequently, 


all  the  couriers  along  the  road  are  delayed  in 
the  same  proportion,  and  there  fs  the  loss  of 
half  an  hour  occasioned,  not  only  to  each 
of  them,  but  to  all  who  have  depended 
upon  their  arrival  at  a  certain  time.  It  is 
true,  that  few  of  us  are  placed  in  the  same 
relative  position  as  this  man,  with  regard  to 
our  fellow-creatures ;  yet,  none  of  us  act 
alone  ;  and  the  mistress  of  a  house,  who  de- 
tains a  poor  workman  half  an  hour  by  her 
want  of  punctuality,  may  be  the  means  of  his 
receiving  reproof,  nay,  even  abuse,  from  oth- 
ers who  have  lost  their  time  in  consequence 
of  his  delay ;  while  others  still,  and  -others 
yet  beyond,  through  the  wider  range  of  a 
more  extensive  circle,  may  have  been  calcu- 
lating their  time  and  means  in  dependence 
upon  the  punctuality  of  this  poor  man. 

If  on  particular  occasions  which  recur 
every  day,  we  find  we  are  generally  half  an 
hour  too  late,  the  evil  to  others  is  sometimes 
easily  remedied  by  making  our  appointment 
half  an  hour  later,  and  abiding  by  it  But 
such  is  not  the  plan  of  those  who  are  habitu- 
ally negligent  of  punctuality.  They  go  on, 
varying  from  their  time,  one  day  perhaps  an 
hour,  another  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  and  oc- 
casionally perhaps  being  before  it, 'until  the 
whole  machinery  of  intercourse  with  their 
fellow-creatures  is  deranged — those  of  their 
dependents  who  are  inclined  to  indolence 
taking  advantage  of  their  delay  ;  those  who 
are  impatient,  fretting  themselves  into  angry 
passions  at  this  wanton  waste  of  their  pre- 
cious time;  and  many  whose  connection 
might  perhaps  have  been  highly  valuable, 
leaving  them  altogether,  in  consequence  of 
being  wearied  or  disgusted  with  the  uncer- 
tainty which  attended  all  their  proceedings. 

It  is  not,  therefore,  our  own  time  only  that 
is  wasted  by  our  want  of  punctuality,  but 
hours,  and  days,  and  months,  and  years  of 
the  precious  property  of  others,  over  which 
we  had  no  right,  and  which  was  not  inten- 
tionally submitted  to  our  thoughtless  expen- 
diture. 

It  is  often  alleged  by  young  persons  as  be- 
ing of  no  use  for  them  to  be  punctual,  when 
others  are  not  so,  and  that  they  only  waste 


a 


THE  DAUGHTERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


heir  own  time  by  being  ready  at  fhe  ap- 
pointod  moment.  All  this  may  be  too  true  ; 
or  parents  and  seniors  in  a  family  often  have 
themselves  to  blame  for  the  want  of  punctu- 
lity  in  the  junior  members.  Yet  is  it  of  no 
mportance,  whether  we  are  the  causes  or 
the  subjects  of  injury— whether  we  practise 
njustice  towards  others,  or  only  endure  it 
ourselves?  Surely  no  generous  mind  can 
lesitate  a  moment  which  alternative  to 
choose,  especially  when  such  choice  refers 
not  to  any  single  act,  but  to  a  course  of  con- 
duct pursued  through  a  whole  lifetime.  Of 
what  material  consequence  will  it  appear  to 
us  on  the  Bed  of  death,  that  certain  individ- 
uals, at  different  times  of  our  lives,  have 
cept  us  waiting  for  a  few  hours,  which 
might  certainly  have  been  better  employed  ? 
But  it  will  be  of  immense  importance  at  the 
close  of  life,  if,  by  our  habitual  want  of  punc- 
tuality, we  have  been  the  cause  of  an  enor- 
mous waste  of  time,  the  property  of  count- 
less individuals,  to  whom  we  can  make  no 
repayment  for  any  single  act  of  such  unli- 
censed robbery.  It  is  the  principle  of  integ- 
rity, then,  upon  which  our  punctuality  must 
be  founded,  and  the  law  of  love  will  render  it 
habitual 

As  there  are  few  persons  who  deliberately 
intend  to  be  idle ;  so  there  are  perhaps  stiil 
fewer  who  deliberately  intend  to  waste  their 
own  time,  or  that  of  their  friends.  It  is  th& 
lapse  of  years,  the  growth  of  experience,  and 
the  establishment  of  character  on  some  par- 
ticular basis,  which  tell  the  humiliating  truth, 
that  time  has  been  culpably  and  lamentably 
wasted.  There  are  other  delusions,  however, 
besides  those  already  specified,  under  which 
this  fruitless  expenditure  is  unconsciously 
carried  on  ;  and  none  is  perhaps,  as  a  whole, 
more  destructive  to  usefulness,  or  more  fatal 
to  domestic  peace,  than  the  habit  of  being  al- 
ways a  little  too  late — too  late  to  come — too 
late  to  go — too  late  to  meet  at  the  place  of 
appointment — too  late  to  be  useful — too  late 
to  do  good — too  late  to  repent  and  seek  for- 
giveness while  the  gates  of  mercy  are  un- 
closed. All  these  may  be  the  consequences 
of  setting  out  in  life,  without  a  firm  determi- 


nation never  to  yield  to  the  dangerous  habit 
of  being  a  little  too  late. 

In  this  case  it  is  not  so  much  the  absolute 
waste  of  time,  as  the  waste  of  feeling,  which 
is  to  be  regretted  ;  for  no  one  can  be  habitual- 
ly ever  so  little  too  late,  without  experien- 
cing at  times  a  degree  of  hurry  and  distraction 
of  mind,  most  destructive  of  domestic  com- 
fort and  individual  peace. 

To  be  a  few  minutes  too  early,  may  appear 
to  many  as  inconsistent  with  the  order  of  the 
present  day,  when  every  thing  is  pushed  to 
extremity,  and  it  may  consequently  be  con- 
sidered as  a  useless  waste  of  time  ;  yet  I  am 
inclined  to  think  that  the  moments  in  which 
we  can  say,  "  I  am  ready,"  are  among  some 
of  the  most  precious  of  our  lives,  as  affording 
us  opportunity  for  that  calm  survey  of  human 
affairs,  without  which  we  should  pass  in  a 
state  of  comparative  blindness  along  the 
thickly-peopled  walks  of  life.  To  be  ready  a 
little  before  the  time,  is  like  pausing  for  a  mo- 
ment to  see  the  great  machine  of  human 
events  at  work,  to  mark  the  action  and  the 
play  of  every  part,  and  to  observe  the  vast 
amount  of  feeling  which  depends  upon  every 
turn  of  the  mighty  wheel  of  time. 

Who  that  has  stood  still,  and  watched  the 
expression  of  the  human  countenance  during 
the  last  struggles  of  a  too  late  preparation  for 
pleasure,  for  business,  or  for  trial,  has  not,  in 
a  single  moment,  read  more  plain  truths  on 
that  unguarded  page  than  years  of  its  ordi- 
nary expression  would  have  unfolded !  Be- 
sides this,  however,  the  great  advantage  we 
derive  from  being  habitually  too  early,  is  the 
power  it  gives  us  to  husband  our  forces,  to 
make  our  calculations  upon  coming  events, 
to  see  how  to  improve  upon  yesterday,  and 
to  resolve  to  do  so ;  but,  above  all  other 
means  of  strengthening  our  better  resolutions, 
it  affords  us  time  for  those  mental  appeals 
for  Divine  blessing  and  support,  without 
which  we  have  no  right  to  expect  either  safe- 
ty, assistance,  or  success.  Fortified  in  this 
manner,  it  is  less  likely  that  any  unexpected 
event  should  unsettle  the  balance  of  our 
minds,  because  we  go  forth  with  calmness, 
prepared  either  to  enjoy  with  moderation  and 


ECONOMY  OF  TIME. 


19 


thankfulness,  or  to  suffer  with  patience  and 
resignation. 

Young  persons  are  often  beguiled  into  the 
dangerous  habit  of  being  a  little  too  late,  by 
the  apparent  unimportance  of  each  particular 
transgression  of  the  kind  duriqg  the  season 
of  youth.  If,  for  instance,  they  are  a  little 
too  late  for  breakfast,  the  matron  of  the  fami- 
ly commences  operations  without  them,  and 
they  can  easily  gain  time  upon  some  of  the 
senior  members.  At  the  dinner-hour  it  is  the 
same.  They  have  only  to  calculate  upon  a 
few  impatient  words,  and  a  few  angry  looks  ; 
and  it  is  not  the  least  unfavorable  feature  of 
their  case,  that  to  such  looks  and  words  they 
become  so  accustomed  as  scarcely  to  heed 
them,  nor  is  it  often  that  they  bring  any  more 
serious  consequences  upon  themselves  by 
their  delay,  because  the  young  are  generally 
so  kindly  assisted  and  cared  for  by  their 
friends,  that  by  a  long,  and  patient,  and  often- 
repeated  process  of  helping,  urging,  and  en- 
treating, they  are,  for  the  most  part,  got  ready 
for  every  important  occasion,  or,  in  other 
words,  are  seldom  left  behind. 

It  is  in  more  advanced  life  that  the  evil 
begins  to  tell  upon  the  happiness  of  all  around 
them  ;  and  let  it  never  be  forgotten,  that  the 
more  exalted  their  situation,  the  wider  their 
sphere  of  influence,  the  more  extensive  are 
the  evils  resulting  from  any  wrong  line  of 
conduct  they  may  choose  to  pursue.  The 
season  of  early  youth  is,  therefore,  the  best 
time  for  correcting  this  tendency,  before  it 
has  begun  to  bear  with  any  serious  effects 
upon  the  good  or  the  happiness  of  others. 

We  will  suppose  the  case  of  a  mistress  of 
a  family  preparing  for  a  journey.  Having 
been  a  little  too  late  with  every  thing  which 
had  to  be  done,  there  is  a  frightful  accumula- 
tion of  demands  upon  her  attention  during 
the  last  day,  but  especially  the  last  half-hour 
before  her  departure.  In  this  state  of  hurry 
and  confusion  wrong  orders  are  given,  which 
have  to  be  counteracted ;  messengers  are 
sent  hither  and  thither,  they  scarcely  know 
for  what,  and  still  less  where  to  find  the  thing 
they  seek.  Servants  grow  disorderly,  chil- 
dren teasing  or  frightened,  the  husband  is 


angry,  and  sharp  words  pass  between  him 
and  his  wife.  Accidents,  of  course,  occur, 
for  which  the  innocent  are  blamed.  Time — 
pitiless  time  rolls  on,  apparently  with  accele- 
rating speed.  The  distant  sound  of  carriage- 
wheels  is  heard.  At  this  crisis  a  string  breaks. 
Why  did  it  never  break  before  1  A  flash  of 
absolute  passion  distorts  the  face  of  the  ma- 
tron. All  dignity  is  lost.  The  carriage  is  at  the 
door — little  children  stretch  forth  their  arms 
— there  is  no  time  for  tenderness.  Scarce- 
ly a  farewell  is  heard,  as  the  mother  rushes 
past  them,  leaving  behind  her,  perhaps  for 
months  of  absence,  the  remembrance  of  her 
angry  countenance,  her  unjust  reproaches, 
and  the  apparent  want  of  affection  with  which 
she  could  hurry  away  from  the  very  beings 
she  loved  best  in  the  world.  The  servants 
in  such  a  family  as  this,  can  scarcely  be  blam- 
ed if  they  rejoice  when  their  mistress  is  gone ; 
the  husband,  if  he  finds  abundant  consolation 
in  the  peace  his  absent  partner  has  bequeathed 
him  ;  or  the  children,  if  they  fail  to  look.with 
any  very  eager  expectation  to  the  time  of 
their  mother's  return. 

How,  then,  does  the  law  of  love  operate 
here  ?  It  operates  upon  the  woman  who  is 
seldom  too  late,  so  that  when  a  journey  is  in 
expectation,  all  things  are  arranged  in  due 
time,  leaving  the  last  day  more  especially  for 
attention  to  the  claims  of  affection,  and  the 
regulation  of  household  affairs,  upon  which 
will  depend  the  comfort  of  her  family  during 
her  absence.  Rising  a  little  earlier  than  usual 
on  that  morning,  she  commends  them  indivi- 
dually and  collectively  to  the  care  of  the  Fa- 
ther of  all  the  families  of  earth ;  and  this  very 
act  gives  a  depth,  a  tenderness,  and  a  se- 
renity to  the  feelings  of  affection  with  which 
she  meets  them,  it  may  be  for  the  last  time. 
Kind  words  are  then  spoken,  which  dwell 
upon  the  memory  in  after  years ;  provision 
is  made  for  the  feeble  or  the  helpless ;  every 
little  peculiarity  of  character  or  constitution 
is  taken  into  account ;  last  charges — those 
precious  memorials  of  earthly  love — are  given, 
and  treasured  up.  There  is  time  even  for 
private  and  confidential  intercourse  between 
the  husband  and  the  wife  ;  there  is  time  for 


20 


THE  DAUGHTERS  OF  KNCF.ANI). 


a  respectful  farewell  to  every  domestic ;  there 
is  time,  too,  for  an  expression  of  thankfulness 
for  each  one  of  the  many  kind  offices  render- 
ed on  that  sacred  day.  At  last  the  moment 
of  separation  arrives.  Silent  tears  are  seen 
in  every  eye,  but  they  are  not  absolutely  tears 
of  sorrow ;  for  who  can  feel  sorrow,  when 
the  cup  of  human  love  is  so  full  of  sweet- 
ness 1 

If,  during  the  absence  of  such  a  mother, 
sickness  or  death  should  assail  any  member 
of  her  family,  how  will  the  remembrance  of 
that  day  of  separation  soothe  the  absent ; 
while  the  kind  words  then  uttered,  the  kind 
thoughts  then  felt,  the  kind  services  then 
|  rendered,  will  recur  to  remembrance,  invest- 
ed with  a  power  and  a  beauty,  which  never 
would  have  been  fully  known,  had  no  such 
separation  taken  place. 

It  is  possible  the  natural  affection  of  the 
wife  and  the  mother,  in  both  these  cases, 
may  have  been  the  same  ;  yet,  how  different 
must  be  the  state  of  their  own  feelings,  and 
of  those  of  their  separate  families,  one  hour 
after  their  departure  !  and  not  during  that 
hour  only,  but  during  weeks  and  months, 
nay,  through  the  whole  of  their  lives !  for 
the  specimen  we  have  given,  is  but  one 
among  the  many  painful  scenes  which  must 
perpetually  occur  in  the  experience  of  those 
who  are  habitually  too  late. 

It  is  true,  I  have  extended  the  picture  a 
little  beyond  the  season  of  early  youth,  but 
this  was  absolutely  necessary  in  order  to 
point  out  the  bearing  and  ultimate  tendency 
of  this  dangerous  habit — a  habit,  like  many 
of  our  wrong  propensities,  so  insidious 
in  its  nature,  as  scarcely  to  tell  upon  the 
youthful  character  ;  while,  like  many  other 
plants  of  evil  growth,  its  seed  is  sown  at  that 
period  of  life,  though  we  scarcely  perceive 
the  real  nature  of  the  poisonous  tree,  until 
its  bitter  root  has  struck  too  deep  to  be 
eradicated.  It  is,  therefore,  the  more  im- 
portant, in  all  we  purpose,  and  in  all  we  do, 
that  we  should  look  to  the  end,  and  not 
awake,  when  it  is  too  late,  to  find  that  we 
have  miscalculated  either  our  time  or  our 
means. 


CHAPTER  III. 

CLEVERNESS — LEARNING KNOWLEDGE. 

IN  order  to  speak  with  more  precision  of 
those  attainment*  which  youth  is  the  season 
for  acquiring,  I  must  class  them  under  three 
different  heads — cleverness,  learning,  and 
knowledge.  By  cleverness,  I  would  be  un- 
stood  to  mean,  dexterity  and  aptness  in  doing 
every  thing  which  falls  within  the  sphere  of 
ordinary  duty.  Cleverness  of  the  hand,  is 
no  mean  attainment  in  a  woman.  It  is,  in 
fact,  of  almost  as  much  value  to  her,  as  dex- 
terity to  the  surgeon ;  for  though  he  may 
have  knowledge  to  understand  what  is  best 
to  be  done,  unless  his  hand  be  skilful  to  do  it, 
his  knowledge  will  avail  him  but  little  in  any 
case  of  emergency,  where  the  life  of  a  fellow- 
creature  is  at  stake. 

The  cleverness  of  the  hand,  therefore, 
though  almost  entirely  neglected  in  modern 
education,  except  as  relates  to  practice  on  the 
keys  of  the  piano,  is  a  qualification  which, 
while  it  takes  nothing  away  from  the  charm 
of  feminine  delicacy,  imparts  the  additional 
charm  of  perpetual  cheerfulness,  added  to  a 
capability  of  general  usefulness,  and  a  conse- 
quent readiness  for  action  whenever  occasion 
may  require  our  services. 

To  know  how  to  do  every  thing  which  can 
properly  come  within  a  woman's  sphere  of 
duty,  ought  to  be  the  ambition  of  every  female 
mind.  For  my  own  part,  I  do  not  believe  I 
have  ever  learned  any  thing,  even  down  to 
such  a  trifle  as  a  new  stitch,  but  I  have 
found  a  use  for  it,  and  that  in  a  surprisingly 
short  space  of  time  ;  for  either  it  has  occu- 
pied what  would  otherwise  have  been  idle 
time,  it  has  used  up  what  would  otherwise 
have  been  wasted  material,  or  I  have  taught 
it  to  others  who  were  more  in  need  of  it  than 
myself.  Besides  which,  there  is  the  grand 
preventive  this  dexterity  supplies  against 
ever  being  at  a  loss  what  to  do  ;  the  happi- 
ness it  affords,  both  to  ourselves  and  others, 
to  be  perpetually  employed  ;  the  calm  it  dif- 
fuses over  a  naturally  restless  temperament ; 
but  above  all,  the  ability  this  habit  affords  in 
cases  of  sickness,  or  other  emergency,  to 


CLEVERNESS,  LEARNING,  KNOWLEDGE. 


21 


turn  all  our  means  to  account  in  the  service 
of  our  friends. 

This,  however,  can  never  be  so  thoroughly 
effected,  as  when  the  cleverness  of  the  hand 
is  aided  ty  the  faculty  of  invention.  And 
here  I  would  ask,  how  is  it,  how  can  it  be, 
that  the  exercise  of  this  faculty  forms  so  tri- 
fling a  part  of  female  education  1  Never 
does  a  woman  enter  upon  the  actual  business 
of  life,  whatever  it  may  be,  but  her  ingenuity 
is  taxed  in  some  way  «r  other1 ;  and  she  suf- 
;  fers  blame,  or  endures  contempt,  just  so  far 
as  she  fails  in  this  respect.  If,  at  a  critical 
juncture  of  time,  any  accident  takes  place  in 
household  affairs,  woman  is  expected  to 
cover  up  the  defect,  or  supply  the  deficiency. 
If  any  article  of  common  use  is  missing  when 
wanted,  woman  is  expected  to  provide  a 
substitute.  If  the  accustomed  supply  of 
comfort  or  enjoyment  fails,  it  is  woman's 
fault.  No  matter  how  great  the  deficiency 
of  material  with  which  she  has  to  work,  do- 
mestic comfort,  order,  and  respectability  rest 
with  her,  and  she  must  be  accountable  for 
the  falling  short  in  any,  or  all  of  these.  It  is 
true  that  she  is  endowed  by  nature  with  the 
faculty  of  invention,  in  a  higher  degree,  per- 
haps, than  men,  and  skilfully  and  nobly  does 
she  sometimes  use  it  ;  but  does  not  the  very 
fact  of  this  endowment  teach  us  that  it  has 
thus  been  provided  by  Providence  for  the 
part  she  has  to  act  in  life  1  and  ought  we  not 
the  more  sedulously  to  carry  out  this  merci- 
ful design,  by  a  higher  cultivation  of  so  useful 
a  faculty  7  Why,  for  instance,  should  we 
not  have  premiums  on  a  small  scale,  or  other 
encouragements,  in  our  public  seminaries,  for 
the  most  ingenious  and  useful  inventions? 
Why  should  there  not  be  a  little  museum  at- 
tached to  every  school,  in  which  such  specU 
mens  of  ingenuity  could  be  kept  1  We  all 
know  there  are  few  simple  pleasures  which 
surpass  those  derived  from  the  exercise  of 
the  faculty  of  invention  ;  might  it  not,  there- 
fore, be  rendered  as  profitable  as  it  is  amu- 
sing, by  filling  up  some  of  the  idle  hours  of 
a  school-girl's  life,  and  occupying  the  time 
fc>o  frequently  appropriated  to  mere  gossip 
on  subjects  By  no  means  calculated  to  im- 


prove the  morals,  or  enlarge  the  understand, 
ing  7 

The  little  girl  of  four  years  old,  seated  on 
a  footstool  beside  her  mother,  is  less  happy 
in  the  rosy  cheeks  and  shining  curls  of  her 
new  doll,  than  in  the  shawl  she  has  herself 
invented  for  it,  or  the  bonnet  her  sister  is 
making.  It  is  the  same  throughout  the 
whole  season  of  early  youth.  What  is  draw- 
ing, that  most  delightful  of  all  amusements  to 
a  child,  but  the  exercise  of  the  faculty  of  in- 
vention 1  So  soon  as  this  exercise  is  reduced 
to  a  science, — so  soon  as  "perspective 
dawns,"  and  the  juvenile  performer  is  com- 
pelled to  copy,  the  charm  of  the  performance 
in  a  great  measure  ceases.  It  is  true,  it  will 
be  restored  a  hundredfold  when  acquaint- 
ance with  the  rules  of  art  shall  enable  the 
young  student  again  to  design,  and  with  bet- 
ter effect ;  but  during  her  infancy,  she  has 
far  more  enjoyment  in  her  own  red-brick 
house,  with  a  volume  of  green  smoke  issuing 
from  every  chimney — and  in  her  own  round- 
bodied  man,  whose  nose  is  emulous  of  a 
beak,  and  his  eye  in  the  centre  of  his  head — 
than  in  the  most  elaborate  and  finished  draw- 
ings which  a  master  could  lay  before  her ;. 
not,  certainly,  because  she  sees  more  sym- 
metry or  likelihood  in  these  creatures  of  her 
own  formation,  but  simply  because  of  the 
pleasure  she  enjoyed  while  inventing  them. 

It  is  a  subject  of  delightful  reflection,  and  it 
ought  to  be  a  source  of  unfailing  gratitude, 
that  some  of  those  natural  propensities  which 
afford  us  the  greatest  pleasure,  are,  in  reality, 
capable  of  being  made  conducive  to  the 
greatest  good.  Thus,  when  the  little  quiet 
girl  is  so  happy  and  so  busy  with  her  pencils, 
or  her  scissors,  she  is  indulging  that  natural 
propensity  of  her  mind,  which  is,  in  after  life, 
to  render  her  still  happier,  by  enabling  her  to 
turn  to  the  best  account  every  means  of  in- 
creasing the  happiness  of  those  around  her, 
of  rendering  assistance  in  any  social  or  do- 
mestic calamity  that  may  occur,  of  supply  in 
every  time  of  household  need,  and  of  com- 
fort in  every  season  of  distress. 

But  if  the  value  of  invention,  and  the 
ready  application  of  existing  means,  be  over- 


THE  DAUGHTERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


looked  under  all  other  circumstances  in  a 
sick-room,  none  can  doubt  its  efficacy.  The 
visitations  of  sickness,  however  unlikely  or 
unlocked  for  they  may  be  to  the  young,  are 
liable  to  all — the  gay  and  the  grave,  the  rich 
and  the  poor,  the  vigorous  and  the  feeble ; 
and  we  have  only  to  visit  some  of  those  fa- 
vorite spots  of  earth  which  have  become  the 
resort  of  invalids  from  every  land,  to  see 
how  often  the  most  delicate  females  are 
plunged  into  all  the  solemn  and  sacred 
mysteries  of  the  chamber  of  sickness  and 
death. 

It  is  under  such  circumstances  that  inge- 
nuity, when  connected  with  kindly  feeling, 
and  readiness  to  assist,  is  of  the  utmost  pos- 
sible value.  There  may  be  the  same  kind 
feeling  without  it ;  but  how  is  such  feeling  to 
operate  1 — by  teasing  the  invalid  perpetually 
about  what  he  would  like,  or  not  like  ?  The 
querulous  and  fretful  state  of  mind  which 
suffering  so  often  induces,  is  ill-calculated  to 
brook  this  minute  investigation  of  its  wants 
and  wishes  ;  and  such  is  the  capricious  na- 
ture of  a  sickly  appetite,  that  every  antici- 
pated relish  is  apt  to  pall,  before  the  feeble 
desire  can  be  gratified.  We  are  therefore  in- 
flicting positive  pain  upon  the  sufferer — men- 
tal pain,  in  addition  to  that  of  the  body,  by 
compelling  him  to  choose,  and  then  to  appear 
discontented,  or  ungrateful,  in  becoming  dis- 
satisfied with  his  own  choice. 

How  thankful,  then,  ought  women  to  be, 
that  they  possess,  by  nature,  the  faculty  of 
invention  ;  and  how  careful  ought  to  be  their 
cultivation  of  this  precious  gift,  when  it  can 
enable  them  to  relieve  from  pain  and  annoy- 
ance those  who  already  feel  that  they  have 
enough  of  both !  How  happy,  in  comparison, 
is  that  woman,  who,  by  the  habitual  exercise 
of  her  ingenuity,  is  able  so  to  make  the  most 
of  the  means  within  her  power,  as  to  supply, 
without  its  having  to  be  solicited,  the  very 
thing  which  is  most  needed  ;  and  though  her 
endeavors  may  possibly  fail  again  and  again, 
there  will  sometimes  be  a  smile  of  grateful 
acknowledgment  on  the  lips  of  the  sufferer, 
that  will  richly  repay  her  most  anxious  care ; 
or,  if  not,  she  will  still  be  happier,  when  oc- 


cupied by  a  series  of  inventions  for  the  bene- 
fit of  one  she  loves,  than  those  can  be  who 
think,  and  think  again,  and  end  by  only 
wishing  they  could  think  of  any  thing  that 
could  accommmodate  or  relieve. 

The  faculty  of  invention,  however,  will 
fail  of  more  than  half  its  use,  if  the  hand  is 
not  early  accustomed  to  obey  the  head,  in  all 
those  little  niceties  of  management  which  fe- 
male occupations  require.  There  must  be  a 
facility  in  the  application  and  movement  of 
the  hand,  which  can  only  be  acquired  in 
early  life ;  and  I  would  humbly  suggest  the 
importance  of  this  in  our  public  seminaries 
for  young  ladies,  for  I  confess  it  has  often 
seemed  to  me  a  little  hard,  that  young  wo- 
men of  the  middle  ranks  of  life,  should  be 
dismissed  from  these  establishments,  after 
having  spent  years  with  little  more  exercise 
of  the  hand  than  is  required  by  the  music- 
master  ;  yet  are  they  no  sooner  plunged  into 
active  life,  as  women — I  do  not  say,  as  la- 
dies— than  the  readiest  and  best,  nay,  some- 
times, even  the  cheapest,  method  of  doing 
every  thing  which  a  woman  can  do,  is  ex- 
pected of  them.  In  all  those  cases  of  failure 
which  must  necessarily  ensue,  parents  and 
brothers  are  equally  dissatisfied ;  while  they 
themselves,  disappointed  that  their  accom- 
plishments are  no  longer  valued  as  they  were 
at  school,  and  perplexed  with  the  new,  and 
apparently  humbling  duties  which  present 
themselves,  sink  into  a  state  of  profitless  de- 
spondency ;  and  all  this  is  owing  to  the  sim- 
ple fact  of  their  not  having  been  prepared, 
when  young,  for  what  is  expected  of  them  in 
after  life. 

Far  be  it  from  me,  however,  to  advocate 
the  old  system  of  stitching,  as  the  best  kind 
of  education  for  the  daughters  of  England, 
of  whom  higher  and  nobler  things  are  re- 
quired. But  why  should  we  not  choose  the 
medium  between  two  extremes  1  and  while 
we  reprobate  the  elaborate  needlework  of  our 
grandmothers,  why  should  we  not  be  equally 
solicitous  to  avoid  the  evils  arising  from  an 
entire  disuse  of  the  female  hand,  until  the 
age  of  womanhood?  Neither  would  I  Be 
supposed  to  advocate  that  entire  absorption 


CLEVERNESS,  LEARNING,  KNOWLEDGE. 


23 


of  the  female  mind  in  a  world  of  worsted 
work,  which  is  now  so  frequently  the  case 
immediately  on  leaving  school,  and  which  I 
am  inclined  to  attribute,  in  a  great  measure, 
to  a  necessary  reaction  of  the  mind,  after 
having  been  occupied  during  the  whole  term 
of  scholastic  discipline,  in  what  is  so  foreign 
to  its  nature,  that  the  first  days — nay,  months, 
and  even  years,  of  liberty,  are  spent  in  the 
busy  idleness  of  assorting  different  shades  of 
Berlin  wool. 

These,  I  must  allow,  are  pleasant  amuse- 
ments in  their  way,  and  when  the  head  and 
the  heart  are  weary,  may  have  their  refresh- 
ment and  their  use  ;  but  even  in  these  occu- 
pations, the  beaten  track  of  custom  is  too 
much  followed.  The  hand  is  more  exercised 
than  the  head.  To  imitate  is  more  the  ob- 
ject than  to  invent,  while,  if  the  same  pains 
were  taken  to  create  a  pattern  as  to  borrow 
one,  new  ideas  might  be  perpetually  struck 
out,  and  the  mind,  even  in  this  humble 
sphere  of  action,  might  find  as  much  em- 
ployment as  the  hand. 

It  is  sometimes  made  the  subject  of  regret 
by  learned,  well-informed,  and  highly-gifted 
women,  that  the  occupations  peculiar  to  our 
sex  are  so  trifling ;  or,  in  other  words,  that 
they  afford  so  little  exercise  for  the  mind. 
To  say  nothing  here  of  the  folly  and  the 
danger  of  allowing  ourselves  to  despise  such 
duties  as  God  has  set  before  us,  I  am  dis- 
posed to  question  whether  it  is  not  in  a  great 
measure  our  own  fault  that  these  duties  are  in- 
vested with  so  little  mind.  Invention  is  surely 
no  mean  faculty,  and  I  have  shown  how  it 
may  be  exercised,  even  upon  the  most  tri- 
fling affairs  of  woman's  life.  Economy  is  no 
mean  principle,  and  this  may  be  acted  upon 
in  the  application  of  the  humblest  means  to 
any  particular  end.  Industry  is  no  mean 
virtue,  and  we  may  be  practising  this,  while 
filling  up  every  spare  moment  with  some  oc- 
cupation of  the  hand.  Cheerfulness  is  no 
mean  embellishment  to  the  female  character ; 
and  seldom  is  cheerfulness  preserved,  when 
the  hand  is  allowed  to  be  useless  and  idle. 

I  confess  there  is  a  listless  way  of  merely 
"getting  through"  with  female  occupations, 


in  which  little  mind,  and  still  less  good  feeling, 
is  called  into  action :  but  when  a  lively  in- 
vention  is  perpetually  at  work  ;  when  a  care- 
ful economy  is  practised  for  the  sake  of  mak- 
ing the  most  of  all  our  materials,  and  sparing 
our  money,  it  may  be  for  the  purpose  of  as- 
sisting the  sorrowful  or  the  destitute.  Where 
habits  of  industry  are  thus  engrafted  into 
the  character ;  and  where  cheerfulness  lights 
up  every  countenance  in  a  family  thus  em- 
ployed ;  especially  where  there  is  any  con- 
siderable degree  of  talent  or  illumination  of 
mind,  how  many  brilliant  thoughts  may  arise 
out  of  the  simplest  subject,  and  how  much 
rational  enjoyment  may  be  derived  from  the 
humblest  occupations ! 

I  cannot  dismiss  the  subject  of  cleverness, 
or  dexterity  in  doing  whatever  may  come 
within  the  sphere  of  female  duty,  without 
observing  that  its  importance  refers  in  an 
especial  manner  to  domestic  usefulness.  Nor 
let  the  young  lady,  who  may  read  this,  too 
hastily  turn  away  with  contempt  from  so 
humble  a  strain  of  advice.  It  does  not  fol- 
low, because  she  knows  how  to  do  every 
thing,  that  she  must  always  do  it.  But  it 
does  follow,  that  if  she  wishes  to  stand  at  the 
head  of  her  household,  to  be  respected  by  her 
own  servants,  and  to  feel  herself  the  mistress 
of  her  own  affairs,  that  she  must  be  acquainted 
with  the  best  method  of  doing  every  thing 
upon  which  domestic  comfort  depends. 

These  remarks  can  of  course  have  no  ref- 
erence to  families  who  occupy  a  higher  rank 
in  society,  and  whose  means  enable  them  to 
employ  a  housekeeper  as  the  medium  of 
communication  between  the  mistress  and*  the 
servants.  I  speak  of  those  who  have  to  give 
orders  themselves,  or  who,  in  cases  of  illness, 
receiving  company,  or  other  derangements^ 
of  the  usual  routine  of  domestic  affairs,  have 
to  take  an  active  part  in  household  economy 
themselves.  To  such,  how  unfortunate  is  it  not 
to  have  learned,  before  they  attempt  to  direct 
others,  the  best  method  of  applying  every 
means  so  as  to  be  productive  of  the  greatest 
comfort,  at  the  least  expense  !  I  would  of 
course  be  understood  to  mean,  with  the  least 
possible  risk  of  absolute  waste.  Your  table 


21 


THE  DAUGHTERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


may  be  sumptuous  or  simple,  your  furniture 
costly  or  plain — that  will  depend  upon  the 
rate  at  which  you  fix  your  expenditure,  and 
has  nothing  to  do  with  the  point  in  question. 
The  absolute  waste  of  material,  in  whatever 
is  manufactured,  prepared,  or  produced,  is 
an  evil  of  a  distinct  nature,  and  can  never  be 
allowed  to  any  extent,  where  it  is  possible  to 
be  avoided,  without  a  deficiency  of  common 
sense,  or  moral  rectitude. 

In  my  observations  upon  the  women  of 
England,  I  have  dwelt-eo  much  upon  the  de- 
sirableness of  domestic  usefulness,  that  I  can- 
not with  propriety  enlarge  upon  it  here.  Yet, 
such  is  my  view  of  this  subject,  that  if  I  were 
asked  which  of  the  three  was  most  valuable 
in  a  woman— cleverness,  learning,  or  know- 
ledge ;  and  supposing  all  to  have  an  aqual 
accompaniment  of  good  sense,  good  feeling, 
and  good  principle,  I  believe  I  should  answer 
in  favor  of  the  first,  provided  the  situation  of 
the  woman  was  in  the  middle  rank  of  life, 
and  she  could  not  enjoy  more  than  one  of 
these  valuable  recommendations. 

Youth  is  considered  to  be  so  exclusively 
the  season  for  acquiring  a  skilful  touch  in 
the  practice  of  music,  that  scarcely  is  the  ex- 
periment ever  tried  of  acquiring  the  same 
dexterity  in  after  life.  If  then  it  is  the  only 
time  for  attaining  excellence  in  what  is  mere- 
ly an  embellishment  to  the  character,  of  how 
much  importance  must  this  season  be  for 
practising  the  hand  in  that  ready  obedience 
to  the  head  in  all  affairs  of  actual  usefulness, 
which  justly  entitles  its  possessor  to  the  dis- 
tinction of  cleverness ! 

In  order  to  convey  a  more  correct  idea  of 
my  meaning,  when  I  speak  of  cleverness,  I 
will  simply  add,  that  a  woman  possessed  of 
this  qualification  is  seldom  at  a  loss  what  to 
do ;  seldom  gives  wrong  orders ;  seldom 
mistakes  the  right  means  of  producing  the 
end  she  desires ;  seldom  spoils,  or  wastes,  or 
mismanages  the  work  she  undertakes  ;  never 
hurries  to  and  fro  in  a  state  of  confusion,  not 
knowing  what  is  best  to  be  done  first ;  and 
never  yields  to  her  own  feelings,  so  as  to  in- 
capacitate her  from  the  service  of  others,  at 
any  critical  moment  when  her  assistance  may 


be  most  needed.  Not.are  her  recommenda- 
tions only  of  a  negative  kind.  Her  habitual 
self-possession  is  a  positive  good,  her  cool- 
ness, her  promptitude,  her  power  to  adapt 
herself  to  circumstances,  all  give  worth  and 
dignity  to  her  character  in  the  estimation  of 
others  ;  while  they  afford  peace  and  satisfac- 
tion to  her  own  mind. 

LEARNING,  Dr.  Johnson  tells  us,  is  skill  in 
languages  or  science.  With  regard  to  the 
time  spent  in  the  acquisition  of  languages,  I 
fear  I  must  incur  the  risk  of  being  thought 
neither  liberal  nor  enlightened  ;  for  I  confess, 
I  do  not  see  the  value  of  languages  to  a 
woman,  except  so  far  as  they  serve  the  pur- 
pose of  conversation  with  persons  of  different 
countries,  or  acquaintance  with  the  works  of 
authors,  whose  essential  excellences  cannot 
be  translated  into  our  own  tongue ;  and  how 
far  these  two  objects  are  carried  out  by  the 
daughters  of  England,  either  from  necessity 
or  inclination,  I  must  leave  to  their  own  con- 
sideration. 

With  regard  to  the  dead  languages,  the 
former  of  these  two  motives  cannot  apply. 
It  may,  however,  be  justly  considered  as  a 
wholesome  exercise  of  the  mind,  provided 
there  is  nothing  better  to  be  done,  for  young 
women  to  learn  Greek  and  Latin ;  but  be- 
yond this,  I  feel  perfectly  assured,  that  for 
any  knowledge  they  will  acquire  through  the 
medium  of  the  best  Greek  and  Latin  authors, 
our  most  approved  translations  would  more 
than  answer  their  purpose.  It  is  true,  that 
a  knowledge  of  these  languages  gives  an  in- 
sight into  the  meaning  of  many  important 
words  in  our  own  ;  yet,  an  early  and  exten- 
sive reading  of  our  standard  books  would 
unquestionably  give  the  same,  along  with  a 
greater  fund  of  useful  and  practical  informa- 
tion ;  and  for  every  purpose  of  female  elocu- 
tion, I  strongly  suspect  that  good  Saxon- 
English  would  be  found  as  clear,  impressive, 
and  convincing,  as  any  which  can  boast  a 
more  classical  construction. 

There  is  one  motive  assigned  in  the  pre- 
sent day,  for  young  ladies  learning  Greek, 
but  especially  Hebrew,  which  I  should  be 
sorry  to  treat  with  irreverence  or  disrespect, 


CLEVERNESS,  LEARNING,  KNOWLEDGE. 


25 


because  it  has  weight  w  ith  some  of  the  most 
serious  and  estimable  of  their  sex.  I  mean 
the  plea  of  being  thus  enabled  to  read  the 
Scriptures  in  the  original.  Now,  if  such 
young  ladies  have  really  nothing  better,  to 
do,  or  if  from  the  high  order  of  their  natural 
capabilities  they  have  a  chance,  even  the  re- 
motest, of  being  able  to  throw  some  addi- 
tional light  upon  our  best  translations,  far  be 
it  from  me  to  wish  to  put  the  slightest  ob- 
stacle in  their  way.  Yet,  I  own  it  does  ap- 
•  pear  to  me  a  little  strange,  that  after  consider- 
ing the  length  of  time  required  for  attaining 
a  sufficient  knowledge  of  these  languages, 
and  the  number  of  learned  commentators 
and  divine?,  who  have  spent  the  best  part  of 
their  valuable  lives,  in  laboring  to  ascertain 
the  true  meaning  of  the  language  of  the 
Scriptures,  and  when  the  result  of  those  la- 
bors is  open  to  the  public, — it  does  appear  to 
me  a  little  strange,  that  any  young  woman, 
of  moderate  abilities,  should  enter  into  the 
field  with  such  competitors,  in  the  hope  of 
attaining  a  nearer  approach  to  the  truth  than 
they  have  done ;  and  I  have  been  led  to 
question,  whether  it  would  not  be  quite  as 
well  for  such  individuals  to  be  content  to 
take  the  Bible  as  it  is,  and  to  employ  the  ad- 
ditional time  they  would  thus  become  pos- 
sessed of,  in  disseminating  its  truths  and 
acting  out  its  principles,  so  far  as  they  have 
already  been  made  clear  to  the  humblest  un- 
derstanding. 

These  remarks,  however,  have  especial 
reference  to  moderate  abilities;  because  there 
is  with  some  persons  a  peculiar  gift  for  the 
acquisition  of  languages ;  and  believing,  as 
I  do,  that  no  gift  is  bestowed  in  vain,  I 
would  not  presume  to  question  the  propriety 
of  such  young  persons  spending  at  least  some 
portion  of  their  lives,  in  endeavoring  to  ac- 
quire the  power  of  doing  for  themselves, 
what  has  already  been  done  for  them. 

It  is  a  remarkable  phenomenon  in  our  na- 
ture, that  some  of  those  persons  who  have 
the  greatest  facility  in  acquiring  languages, 
have  the  least  perception  of  the  genius  or 
spirit  of  such  languages  when  they  are  ac- 
quired. The  knowledge  of  many  languages 


obtains  for  its  possessor  the  distinction  of 
being  learned ;  but  if  she  goes  no  further,  if 
she  never  expatiates  in  the  new  world  of 
literature,  into  which  her  knowledge  might 
have  introduced  her  ;  she  is  but  like  a  curi- 
ous locksmith,  who  opens  the  door  upon 
some  hidden  treasure,  and  who,  instead  of 
examining  or  appropriating  the  precious  store 
to  which  he  has  obtained  access,  goes  on  to 
another  door,  and  then  another,  satisfied 
with  merely  being  master  of  the  keys,  and 
knowing  how  to  unlock  at  his  pleasure. 

To  women  of  this  class  of  mind,  provided 
they  belong  to  the  middle  rank  of  life,  and 
are  not  intended  either  for  teachers  or  trans- 
lators, of  what  possible  use  can  be  the  learn- 
ing of  the  dead  languages?  and  to  others 
similarly  circumstanced,  but  without  this  pe- 
culiar talent,  there  are  excellent  translations 
in  almost  every  library,  from  which  they  will 
acquire  a  greater  number  of  ideas,  and  be- 
come more  intimately  acquainted  with  the 
spirit  of  the  writer,  and  the  customs  and  the 
times  of  which  he  wrote,  than  it  is  probable 
they  ever  could  have  been  from  their  own 
reading  of  the  same  works  in  the  original. 
•  With  regard  to  modern  languages,  the  case 
is  very  different.  Facilities  of  communica- 
tion between  one  country  and  another  are 
now  so  great,  that  it  has  become  no  longer  a 
dream  of  romance,  but  a  matter  of  reasonable 
calculation,  with  our  young  women,  even  in 
the  humble  ranks  of  life,  that  they  should 
some  time  or  other  go  abroad.  With  our 
modern  writers,  too,  it  is  so  much  the  custom 
to  indulge  in  the  use  of  at  least  three  lan- 
guages, while  professing  to  write  in  one,  as 
to  render  it  almost  a  necessary  part  of  female 
education  to  learn  both  French  and  Italian. 
If  these  languages  have  not  been  sufficiently 
attended  to  at  school,  they  may,  therefore, 
with  the  utmost  propriety,  be  added  to  such 
studies  as  it  is  desirable  to  continue  for  some 
years  afterwards ;  and  while  their  more  per- 
fect acquisition  is  an  object  of  laudable  de- 
sire, the  mind,  as  it  expands  in  its  progress 
towards  maturity,  will  be  better  able  to  ap- 
preciate the  beauties  they  unfold. 

I  have  been  compelled,  during  the  course 


THE  DAUGHTERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


of  these  remarks,  to  use  an  expression  which 
requires  some  explanation.  I  have  said,  that 
a  young  woman  may  with  propriety  learn 
even  the  dead  languages,  provided  she  has 
nothing  better  to  do ;  by  which,  I  would  be 
understood  to  mean,  provided  she  does  not 
consequently  leave  undone  what  would  ren- 
der her  more  useful  or  amiable  as  a  woman. 
The  settlement  of  this  question  must  depend 
entirely  upon  the  degree  of  her  talent,  and 
the  nature  of  her  position  in  life.  If  she  has 
no  other  talent  likely  to  make  her  so  useful 
as  that  which  is  employed  in  learning  Greek, 
Latin,  and  Hebrew,  this  settles  the  point  at 
once,  or  if  she  has  no  duties  so  important  to 
her  as  to  ascertain  the  derivation  of  words, 
or  to  study  the  peculiarities  of  heathen  writers, 
then  by  all  means  let  her  be  a  learned  lady, 
for  every  study,  every  occupation  of  mind, 
provided  it  does  not  include  what  is  evil, 
must  be  preferable  to  absolute  idleness. 

But  may  we  not  turn  to  the  consideration 
of  science  as  opening  a  wide  field  of  interest- 
ing study,  which  does  more  to  enlarge  the 
mind,  and  give  right  views  of  common  things, 
than  the  mere  acquisition  of  language  ? 

"  Science  ! — wl^pt  have  we  to  do  with  sci- 
ence?" exclaim  half  a  dozen  soft  voices  at 
once.  Certainly  not  to  give  public  lectures, 
nor  always  to  attend  them,  unless  you  go 
with  your  understanding  prepared  by  some 
previous  reading,  or  acquaintance  with  the 
subjects,  which  in  the  lecture-room  are  neces- 
sarily rather  illustrated,  than  fully  explained. 
Neither  is  it  necessary  that  you  should  sacri- 
fice any  portion  of  your  feminine  delicacy  by 
diving  too  deep,  or  approaching  too  near  the 
professor's  chair.  A  slight  knowledge  of 
science  in  general  is  all  which  is  here  recom- 
mended, so  far  as  it  may  serve  to  obviate 
some  of  those  groundless  and  irrational  fears, 
•which  arise  out  of  mistaken  apprehensions 
of  the  phenomena  of  nature  and  art ;  but, 
above  all,  to  enlarge  our  views  of  the  great 
and  glorious  attributes  of  the  Creator,  as  ex- 
hibited in  the  most  sublime,  as  well  as  the 
most  insignificant,  works  of  his  creation. 

Perhaps  one  of  the  lowest  advantages,  and 
I  am  far  from  thinking  it  a  low  one  either, 


which  is  derived  by  women  from  a  general 
knowledge  of  science,  is,  that  it  renders  them 
more  companionable  to  men.  If  they  are 
solicitous  to  charm  the  nobler  sex  by  their 
appearance,  dress,  and  manners,  surely  it  is 
of  more  importance  to  interest  them  by  their 
conversation.  By  the  former  they  may  please ; 
by  the  latter  they  may  influence,  and  that  to 
the  end  of  their  lives.  Yet,  how  is  it  possi- 
ble to  interest  by  their  conversation,  without 
some  understanding  of  the  subjects  which 
chiefly  occupy  the  minds  of  men?  Most 
kindly,  however,  has  it  been  accorded  by 
man  to  his  feeble  sister,  that  it  should  not  be 
necessary  for  her  to  talk  much,  even  on  his 
favorite  topics,  in  order  to  obtain  his  favor. 
An  attentive  listener  is  generally  all  that  he 
requires;  but  in  order  to  listen  attentively, 
and  with  real  interest,  it  is  highly  important 
that  we  should  have  considerable  under- 
standing of  the  subject  discussed ;  for  the 
interruption  of  a  single  foolish  or  irrelevant 
question,  the  evidence  of  a  wandering  thought, 
the  constrained  attitude  of  attention,  or  the 
rapid  response  which  conveys  no  proof  of 
having  received  an  idea,  are  each  sufficient 
to  break  the  charm,  and  destroy  the  satisfac- 
tion which  most  men  feel  in  conversing  with 
really  intelligent  women. 

It  is  also  worth  some  attention  to  this  sub- 
ject, if  we  can  thereby  dispel  many  of  the 
idle  fears  which  occupy  and  perplex  the 
female  mind.  I  have  known  women  who 
were  quite  as  much  afraid  of  a  gun  when  it 
was  not  loaded,  as  when  it  was ;  others  who 
thought  a  steam-engine  as  likely  to  explode 
when  it  waa  not  working,  as  when  it  was ; 
and  others  still,  who  avowedly  considered 
thunder  more  dangerous  than  lightning. 
Now,  to  say  nothing  of  the  irritation  which 
fears  like  these  are  apt  to  occasion  in  minds 
of  a  more  masculine  order,  it  is  surely  no  in- 
significant attainment  to  acquire  a  habit  of 
feeling  at  ease,  when  there  is  really  nothing 
to  be  afraid  of. 

But,  far  beyond  this,  the  use  of  science  is 
to  teach  us  not  to 

"  Wrong  thee,  mighty  Nature ! 
With  whom  adversity  is  but  transition  ;" 


CLEVERNESS,  LEARNING,  KNOWLEDGE. 


27 


and  higher  still,  to  teach  us  how  the  wisdom 
and  goodness  of  God  pervade  all  creation. 
Women  are  too  much  accustomed  to  look  at 
the  animal,  vegetable,  and  mineral  kingdoms 
with  eyes  that  may  almost  literally  be  said 
not  to  see.  An  insect  is  to  them  a  little 
troublesome  thing,  which  flies  or  creeps ;  a 
flower  is  a  petty  ornament,  with  a  sweet  per- 
fume ;  and  a  mine  of  coal  or  copper,  some- 
thing which  they  read  about  in  their  geog- 
raphy, as  belonging  to  Newcastle  or  Wales. 
I  do  not  say  that  their  actual  knowledge  is 
thus  limited ;  but  that  they  are  too  much  in 
the  habit  of  regarding  these  portions  of  the 
creation  as  such,  and  no  more. 

Chemistry,  too,  is  apt  to  be  considered  by 
young  women  as  far  too  elaborate  and  mas- 
culine a  study  to  engage  their  attention  ;  and 
thus  they  are  satisfied,  not  only  to  go  on 
through  life  unacquainted  with  those  won- 
derful combinations  and  properties,  which  in 
some  of  the  most  familiar  things  would  throw 
light  upon  their  real  nature,  and  proper  use ; 
but  also  to  remain  unenlightened  in  that  no- 
blest school  of  knowledge,  which  teaches  the 
sublime  truth,  that  the  wonder-working  power 
of  God  has  been  employed  upon  all  the  fa- 
miliar, as  well  as  the  astonishing  objects  we 
perceive ;  and  that  the  same  power  continues 
to  be  exemplified  in  their  perpetual  creation, 
their  order,  adaptation,  and  use. 

Chiefly,  however,  would  I  recommend  to 
the  attention  of  youth,  an  intimate  acquaint- 
ance with  the  nature  and  habits  of  the  ani- 
mal world.  Here  we  may  find  a  source  of 
rational  and  delightful  interest,  which  can 
never  fail  us,  so  long  as  a  bird  is  heard  to 
sing  upon  the  trees,  or  a  butterfly  is  seen  to 
sport  among  the  flowers. 

I  will  not  go  the  length  of  recommending 
to  my  young  countrywomen  to  become  col- 
lectors, either  of  animals  or  of  insects ;  be- 
cause, as  in  the  case  of  translations  from  the 
best  of  ancient  writers,  this  has  already  been 
done  for  them,  better  than  they  are  likely  to 
do  it  for  themselves  ;  and  because  I  am  not 
quite  sure,  that  simply  for  our  own  amuse- 
ment, and  without  any  reference  to  serving 
the  purpose  of  science,  we  have  a  right  to 


make  even  a  beetle  struggle  to  death  upon 
the  point  of  a  pin,  or  to  crowd  together  boxes 
full  of  living  creatures,  who,  in  the  agony  of 
their  pent-up  sufferings,  devour  and  destroy 
one  another. 

Happily  for  us,  there  are  ably  written 
books  on  these  subjects,  from  which  we  can 
learn  more  than  from  our  own  observation ; 
and  museums  accessible  to  all,  where  differ- 
ent specimens  of  insects,  and  other  animals, 
are  so  arranged  as  materially  to  assist  in  un- 
derstanding their  nature  and  classification  ; 
and  far  more  congenial  it  surely  must  be  to 
the  heart  and  mind  of  woman,  to  read  all 
which  able  and  enlightened  men  have  told 
us  of  this  world  of  wonder,  and  then  to  go 
forth  into  the  fields,  and  see  the  busy  and 
beautiful  creatures  by  which  it  is  inhabited, 
sporting  in  the  joyous  freedom  of  nature,  un- 
harmed, and  unsuspicious  of  harm.  Yes, 
there  is  an  acquaintance  with  the  animal  cre- 
ation, which  might  be  cultivated,  so  as  to  do 
good  to  the  heart,  both  of  the  child  and  the 
philosopher — an  acquaintance  which  seems 
to  absolve  these  helpless  creatures  from  the 
curse  of  estrangement  from  their  sovereign 
man — an  acquaintance  which  brings  them 
near  to  us  in  all  their  natural  peculiarities, 
their  amazing  instincts,  and  in  the  voiceless, 
and  otherwise  unintelligible  secrets  of  their 
mysterious  existence. 

And  it  is  good  to  be  thus  acquainted  with 
that  portion  of  creation  which  acknowledges, 
in  common  with  ourselves,  the  great  princi- 
ple of  animal  b'fe,  to  know  that  enjoyment  is 
enjoyment,  and  that  pain  is  pain,  to  myriads 
and  myriads  of  beings,  in  some  respects  more 
beautiful,  in  others  more  curious,  and  in  all 
more  innocent,  than  ourselves.  It  is  good  to 
know,  so  far  as  men  can  know,  for  what  pur- 
pose Almighty  power  has  created  them.  It  is 
good  to  behold  their  beauty,  to  understand 
their  wonderful  formation,  and  to  examine 
the  fairy  fancy-work  of  some  of  their  sacred 
little  homes.  It  is  good  to  be  acquainted 
with  the  strength  of  the  mother's  love,  when 
she  stoops  her  wing  to  the  spoiler,  and  offers 
her  own  life  to  save  her  tender  brood.  It  is 
good  to  know  that  the  laws  of  natures  in 


THE  DAUGHTERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


their  filial  and  parental  influences,  cannot  be 
violated  without  sorrow  as  intense,  though 
not  as  lasting,  as  that  which  tortures  the  hu- 
man heart  on  the  separation  of  parent  and 
child.  It  is  good  to  know  how  these  crea- 
tures, placed  by  Divine  wisdom  under  the 
power  and  dominion  of  man,  are  made  to 
suffer  or  to  die  when  he  neglects  or  abuses 
them. 

The  earth  and  the  air,  the  woods  and  the 
streams,  the  gardens  and  the  fields,  tell  us  of 
all  this.  When  we  sit  under  the  shade  of  a 
lofty  tree,  in  the  stillness  of  summer's  balmy 
noon,  the  note  of  the  wood  pigeon  salutes  us 
from  above.  We  look  up,  and  the  happy 
couple  are  nestling  on  a  bough,  as  closely, 
side  by  side,  as  if  the  whole  world  to  them 
was  nothing,  so  long  as  their  faithful  love 
was  left  On  a  lower  branch  of  the  same 
tree,  or  on  a  broken  rail  c\ose  by,  the  little 
robin  sits  and  sings,  looking  occasionally 
askance  into  the  face  of  that  lordly  crea- 
ture whom  instinct  teaches  him  to  shun. 
Yet  is  it  less  a  reproachful,  than  an  inquir- 
ing glance,  as  if  he  would  ask,  whether  you 
could  really  wish  to  frighten  him  with  all  the 
terrors  which  agitate  his  little  breast  on  your 
approach.  And  then  he  sings  to  you  again, 
a  low  soft  warble ;  though  his  voice  is  never 
quite  so  sweet  as  in  the  autumn,  when  other 
birds  are  silent,  and  he  still  sings  on  amidst 
the  falling  leaves  and  faded  flowers.  Next, 
the  butterfly  comes  wavering  into  sight,  yet 
hastening  on  to  turn  its  golden  wings  once 
more  up  to  the  sunshine.  The  bee  then  h5r- 
ries  past,  intent  upon  its  labors,  and  attracted 
only  for  a  moment  by  the  nosegay  in  your 
hand  ;  while  the  grasshopper,  that  master  of 
ventriloquism,  invites  your  curiosity — now 
here,  now  there,  but  never  to  the  spot  where 
his  real  presence  is  to  be  found.  And  all 
this  while,  the  faithful  dog  is  at  your  feet  If 
you  rise,  at  the  same  moment  he  rises  too ; 
and  if  you  sit  down,  he  also  composes  him- 
self to  rest  Ever  ready  to  go,  or  stay,  he 
watches  >your  slightest  movement ;  and  so 
closely  and  mysteriously  is  his  being  absorb- 
ed- in  yours,  that,  although  a  ramble  in  the 
fields  affords  him  a  perfect  ecstasy  of  delight, 


he  never  allows  himself  this  indulgence,  with- 
out youi  countenance  and  companionship. 

But  it  is  impossible  so  much  as  to  name 
one  in  a  thousand  of  the  sweet  and  cheering 
influences  of  animal  life  upon  the  youthful 
heart.  The  very  atmosphere  we  live  in 
teems  with  it;  the  woods  are  vocal — the 
groves  are  filled  with  it ;  while  around  our 
doors,  within  our  homes,  and  even  at  our 
social  hearth,  the  unfailing  welcome,  the  tran- 
sient glimpses  of  intelligence,  the  instinct,  the 
love  of  these  creatures,  are  interwoven  with 
the  vast  chain  of  sympathy,  which,  through 
the  whole  of  what  may  be  a  wandering  and 
uncertain  life,  hinds  us  to  that  spot  of  earth 
where  we  first  awoke  to  a  feeling  of  compan- 
ionship with  this  portion  of  the  creatures  of 
our  heavenly  Father's  care. 

Nor  must  we  forget  the  wonderful  and 
mysterious  affection  which  some  animals  are 
capable  of  feeling  for  man.  Often  as  we 
may  have  failed  to  inspire  the  love  we  have 
sought  for  among  our  fellow-creatures,  we 
are  all  capable  of  inspiring  attachment  here ; 
nor  does  the  fact  of  our  being  unattractive, 
or  comparatively  worthless  among  mankind, 
operate  in  the  slightest  degree  to  our  disad- 
vantage with  this  class  of  beings.  Witness 
the  outcast  from  society — the  wanderer  on 
the  public  roads — the  poor  and  houseless 
mendicant ;  he  still  has  his  dog — yes,  and  he 
bears  the  cold  repulse  he  meets  with  when 
he  asks  for  bread,  better  than  he  could  bear 
the  desertion  of  that  faithful  animal :  but  he 
fears  it  not  The  proud  may  pass  him  by 
unheeded,  the  rich  may  spurn  him  from  their 
doors,  the  vulgar  and  the  unfeeling  may 
make  a  mockery  of  his  rags  and  wretched- 
ness ;  but  when  the  stormy  night  comes  on, 
and  he  seeks  the  almost  roofless  shed  to  rest 
his  weary  limbs,  he  is  followed  even  there  by 
one  friend,  who  creeps  beside  him  with  a 
love  as  watchful  and  as  true  as  if  he  shared 
the  silken  couch  of  luxury  and  ease. 

There  are  little  motherless  children,  too, 
and  others  not  unacquainted  with  a  feeling 
of  almost  orphan  solitude,  who  have  felt,  at 
times,  how  the  affection  of  a  dumb  animal 
could  supply  the  disappointed  yearnings  of  a 


CLEVERNESS,  LEARNING,  KNOWLEDGE. 


29 


young  warm  heart.  In  after  life,  we  may 
learn  to  look  upon  these  creatures  with  re- 
spect, because  our  heavenly  Father  has 
thought  them  worthy  of  his  care ;  but  youth 
is  the  season  when  \ve  love  them  for  their 
own  sakes  ;  and  because  we  then  discover 
that  they  can  be  made,  by  kindness,  to  love 
us.  In  youth  alone  can  we  feel  to  unite  them 
•with  ourselves  in  that  bond  of  sympathy, 
which  will  never  afterwards  allow  us  to  treat 
their  sufferings  with  indifference,  or  to  regard 
their  happiness  as  beyond  the  sphere  of  our 
duty  to  promote. 

Here,  then,  the  law  of  love  is  made  to 
operate  through  innumerable  channels  of 
sweet  and  natural  feeling,  extending  over  a 
wide  field  of  creation,  and  reaping  its  reward 
of  satisfaction  wherever  a  poor  animal  is  res- 
cued from  oppression,  hunger,  or  pain. 

The  study  of  natural  history  is,  perhaps, 
the  most  congenial  pursuit  to  which  the  mind 
of  youth  can  be  introduced  ;  and  it  never  can 
begin  with  this  too  soon.  The  history  and 
nature  of  plants  is  the  next  most  pleasing 
study — though  far  inferior  to  the  first,  for 
this  important  reason  :  our  acquaintance 
with  animals  involves  a  moral  feeling, — and 
not  one  feeling  only,  but  a  vast  chain  of  sym- 
pathies and  affections,  which,  if  not  touched 
in  early  life,  are  seldom  afterwards  called 
forth  with  any  degree  of  earnestness  or 
warmth  ;  and  for  a  woman  to  be  insensible 
or  indifferent  to  the  happiness  of  the  brute 
creation,  is  an  idea  too  repulsive  to  be  dwelt 
upon  for  a  moment. 

There  is,  however,  a  sickly  sensibility  in- 
dulged in  by  some  young  ladies,  which  I 
should  be  the  last  to  recommend.  Many,  for 
instance,  will  nurse  and  fondle  animals,  with- 
out ever  taking  the  trouble  to  feed  them. 
Others  shrink  away  with  loathing  at  the 
sight  of  pain,  which,  if  they  would  but  exert 
themselves  to  remove,  might  easily  be  reme- 
died. I  remember  a  young  girl  with  whom 
I  was  well  acquainted,  having  watched  a  cat 
torment  a  mouse  until  she  could  bear  it  no 
longer,  when  at  last,  with  a  feeling  of  the  ut- 
most repugnance  to  the  act,  she  snatched  up 
the  poor  lacerated  mouse,  and  killed  it  in  a 


moment  On  seeing  her  do  this,  two  very 
delicate  and  estimable  young  ladies  gave 
themselves  up  to  shrieks  and  hysterics,  al- 
though they  had  known  for  the  previous 
half  hour  that  the  little  helpless  animal  had 
been  enduring  the  most  cruel  torture  in  the 
claws  of  the  cat,  and  they  had  borne  this 
knowledge  with  the  greatest  composure. 

It  is  not,  then,  a  delicate  shrinking  from 
the- mere  sight  of  pain,  which  constitutes  that 
kindly  feeling  towards  the  animal  creation, 
that  forms  so  estimable  a  part  of  the  female 
character;  but  that  expansive  sentiment  of 
benevolence  towards  all  the  creatures  of 
God's  formation,  which  is  founded  on  the 
principle  of  love,  and  which  operates  as  a 
principle  in  prompting  us  to  promote  the 
good  of  all  creatures  that  have  life,  and  to 
promote  it  on  the  widest  possible  scale. 

But  to  return  to  the  subject  of  botany.  A 
woman  who  does  not  love  flowers,  suffers  a 
great  want  in  her  supplies  of  healthy  and 
natural  enjoyment  How  could  the  poet 
Milton,  when  he  pictured  woman  in  her 
highest  state  of  excellence,  have  employed 
our  mother  Eve,  had  he  made  her  indifferent 
to  the  beauty  of  the  plants  of  paradise,  or 
negligent  of  the  flowers  which  bloomed 
around  her  1  Still,  I  must  acknowledge  that 
there  is,  to  many  minds,  something  the  re- 
verse of  attractive  in  the  first  aspect  of  the 
study  of  botany,  as  it  is  generally  presented 
to  our  attention.  In  this  I  am  supported  by 
one  of  the  most  gifted  of  modern  authors, 
when  he  speaks  of  the  "  ponderous  nomen- 
clature" of  botany  having  frightened  many  a 
youthful  student  back  from  the  portals  of  this 
study.  There  are  many  persons  now  ad- 
vanced in  life,  who  deeply  regret  their  want 
of  what  is  called  a  taste  for  botany,  when  the 
fault  has  not  been  in  their  natural  taste,  so 
much  as  in  the  form  under  which  this  study 
was  introduced  to  their  notice  in  youth  ;  and 
thus  they  have  been  shut  out  through  the 
whole  of  life,  from  the  pleasure  of  expatia- 
ting in  a  field,  as  boundless  in  its  extent  as 
inexhaustible  in  its  attractions. 

These  difficulties,  however,  are  not  insur- 
mountable to  all ;  and  youth  is  unquestiona- 


THE  DAUGHTERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


bly  the  season  for  forming  an  intimate  ac- 
quaintance with  this,  the  loveliest  aspect  of 
nature  ;  so  that  in  after  life,  when  duties  are 
more  imperative,  and  occupations  more  seri- 
ous, and  there  is  consequently  less  time  for 
minute  investigation,  every  flower  and  every 
plant  may  be  met  as  a  member  of  a  well- 
known  family,  and,  as  such,  bear  somewhat 
of  the  character  of  a  familiar  friend. 

It  is  the  same  with  every  part  of  the  crea- 
tion, whether  natural  history,  or  botany,  or 
geology,  have  occupied  our  attention,  or 
chemistry,  or  electricity,  that  great  mystery 
of  the  visible  world,  whose  all-powerful 
agency,  the  most  sublime  as  well  as  the  most 
insignificant  phenomena  of  nature  are  daily 
and  hourly  tending  to  develop, — an  early 
and  intimate  acquaintance  with  each  and  all 
of  these,  must  so  far  enlighten  and  enlarge 
the  mind,  as  to  lead  our  thoughts  beyond  the 
narrow  limits  of  material  existence,  up  to  that 
higher  region  of  wonder  and  of  love,  where 
to  behold  is  to  admire — to  feel  is  to  adore. 

From  the  consideration  of  the  different  ad- 
vantages arising  from  such  studies  as  it  is 
important  should  be  pursued  at  an  early  pe- 
riod of  life,  we  are  necessarily  led  to  ask, 
"  What  is  the  use  of  KNOWLEDGE  in  gener- 
al?" 

Nothing  can  well  be  mote  vague  than  the 
notions  popularly  entertained  of  the  meaning 
of  knowledge.  Dr.  Johnson  has  called  it 
"general  illumination  of  mind."  But,  if  I 
might  be  allowed  to  do  so,  I  should  prefer 
restricting  my  use  of  the  word  knowledge,  to 
that  acquaintance  with  facts,  which,  in  con- 
nection with  the  proper  exercise  of  a  healthy 
mind,  will  necessarily  lead  to  general  illumi- 
nation. A  knowledge  of  the  world,  there- 
fore, as  I  propose  to  use  the  expression, 
must  consequently  mean,  a  knowledge  of 
such  facts  as  the  general  habits  of  society 
develop. 

This  is  universally  allowed  to  be  a  dan- 
gerous knowledge,  beause  it  cannot  be  ac- 
quired without  the  risk  of  being  frequently 
deceived  by  the  false  aspect  which  society 
assumes,  and  the  still  greater  risk  of  having 
our  moral  being  too  deeply  absorbed  in  the 


interest  and  excitement  which  the  study 
itself  affords.  No  one  can  obtain  a  know- 
ledge of  the  world,  by  being  a  mere  specta- 
tor. It  is,  therefore,  safer  and  happier  to 
leave  this  study  until  the  judgment  is  more 
matured,  and  the  habits  and  principles  more 
formed  ;  or  rather  I  should  say,  to  leave  it  as 
a  study  altogether.  Time  and  experience 
teach  us  all  it  is  necessary  to  know  on  this 
subject ;  and  even  duty  urges  us  forward  on 
the  theatre  of  life,  when  little  enough  pre- 
pared for  the  temptations  and  the  conflicts 
we  must  there  encounter.  By  absolute  ne- 
cessity, then,  we  acquire  as  much  knowledge 
of  the  world  as  any  rational  being  needs  de- 
sire, and  that  is  just  sufficient  to  enable  us  to 
judge  of  the  consequences  of  certain  princi- 
ples, or  modes  of  action,  as  they  operate 
upon  the  well-being  of  individuals,  and  of 
society  at  large.  Destitute  of  this  degree  of 
worldly  knowledge,  we  must  ever  be  liable  to 
make  the  most  serious  mistakes  in  applying 
the  principle  of  benevolence,  in  forming  our 
estimate  of  the  moral  condition  of  mankind, 
as  well  as  in  regulating  our  scale,  of  social 
and  relative  duty. 

A  general  knowledge  of  the  political  and 
social  state  of  the  country  in  which  we  live, 
and  indeed  of  all  countries,  is  of  great  impor- 
tance, not  only  to  men,  but  to  women.  Nor 
let  my  fair  readers  be  startled  when  I  speak 
of  the  political  state  of  countries.  You  have 
been  accustomed  to  make  history  your  study. 
An  acquaintance  with  the  most  important 
eras  in  history  is  considered  an  essential  part 
of  a  female  education.  And  can  it  be  less 
essential  to  know  what  events  are  taking 
place  in  your  own  times,  than  what  trans- 
pired in  past  ages  1  Do  not,  however,  mis- 
understand me  on  this  important  subject. 
Do  not  suppose  it  would  add  any  embellish- 
ment to  your  conversation,  for  you  to  discuss 
what  are  called  politic?,  simply  as  such,  es- 
pecially when,  as  in  nine  cases  out  of  ten, 
you  do  not  really  understand  what  you  are 
talking  about  Do  not  take  up  any  question 
as  belonging  to  your  side,  or  your  party, 
while  ignorant  what  the  principles  of  that 
party  are.  Above  all,  do  not  allow  yourself 


CLEVERNESS,  LEARNING,  KNOWLEDGE. 


31 


to  grow  warm  in  your  advocacy  of  any  par- 
ticular candidate  for  a  seat  in  parliament,  be- 
cause he  is  a  handsome  man  or  has  made  a 
fine  speech.  All  this  may  supply  an  oppo- 
site party  with  food  for  scandal,  or  for  jest, 
but  has  nothing  at  all  to  do  with  that  patri- 
otic and  deep  feeling  of  interest  in  the  happi- 
ness and  prosperity  of  her  own  country, 
which  a  benevolent  and  enlightened  woman 
must  naturally  entertain. 

Destitute  as  some  women  are  of  every 
spark  of  this  feeling,  it  is  but  natural  that 
their  conversation  should  at  times  be  both 
trifling  and  vapid ;  and  that  when  subjects 
of  general  importance  are  discussed,  they 
should  be  too  much  occupied  with  a  pattern 
of  worsted  work,  even  to  listen. 

I  one  day  heard  a  very  accomplished  and 
amiable  young  lady  lamenting  that  she  had 
nothing  to  talk  about,  except  a  subject  which 
had  been  playfully  forbidden,  "  Talk  about 
the  probability  of  a  war,"  said  I.  "  Why 
should  I  talk  about  that  1"  she  replied.  "  It 
is  nothing  to  me  whether  there  is  war  or  not." 
Now,  this  was  said  in  perfect  sincerity,  and 
yet  the  lady  was  a  Christian  woman,  and  one 
who  would  have  been  very  sorry  to  be  sus- 
pected of -not  knowing  the  dates  of  most  of 
the  great  battles  recorded  in  history. 

I  am  perfectly  aware  that  there  are  intri- 
cate questions,  brought  before  our  senate, 
which  it  may  require  a  masculine  order  of 
intellect  fully  to  understand.  But  there  are 
others  which  may,  and  ought  to  engage  the 
attention  of  every  female  mind,  such  as  the 
extinction  of  slavery,  the  abolition  of  war  in 
general,  cruelty  to  animals,  the  punishment 
of  death,  temperance,  and  many  more,  on 
which,  neither  to  know,  nor  to  feel,  is  almost 
equally  disgraceful. 

I  must  again  observe,  it  is  by  no  means 
necessary  that  we  should  talk  much  on  these 
subjects,  even  if  we  do  understand  them  ; 
but  to  listen  attentively,  and  with  real  interest 
when  they  are  discussed  by  able  and  liberal- 
minded  men,  is  an  easy  and  agreeable  method 
of  enlarging  our  stock  of  valuable  knowledge ; 
and,  by  doing  this  when  we  are  young,  we 
shall  go  on  with  the  tide  of  public  events,  so 


as  to  render  ourselves  intelligent  companions 
in  old  age  ;  and  when  the  bloom  of  youth  is 
gone,  and  even  animal  spirits  decline,  we 
shall  have  our  conversation  left,  for  the  en- 
tertainment and  the  benefit  of  our  friends. 

For  my  own  part,  I  know  of  no  interest 
more  absorbing,  than  that  with  which  we 
listen  to  a  venerable  narrator  of  by-gone  facts 
— facts  which  have  transpired  under  the  ac- 
tual observation  of  the  speaker,  in  which  ha 
took  a  part,  or  which  stirred  the  lives,  and 
influenced  the  conduct,  of  those  by  whom  he 
was  surrounded.  When  such  a  person  has 
been  a  lover  of  sterling  truth,  and  a  close  ob- 
server of  things  as  they  really  were  in  early 
youth,  his  conversation  is  such  as  sages  listen 
to,  and  historians  make  the  theme  of  their 
imperishable  pages.  Yet,  such  a  companion 
every  woman  is  capable  of  becoming ;  and 
since  old  age  is  not  rich  in  its  attractions,  is 
it  not  well  worthy  the  attention  of  youth,  to 
endeavor  to  lay  up,  as  a  provision  for  the  fu- 
ture, such  sterling  materials  for  rational  and 
lasting  interest  1 

It  is  worthy  of  observation,  however,  that 
such  information  can  never  be  of  half  the 
value  when  collected  in  a  vague  and  indefi- 
nite form.  The  lover  of  sterling  truth  alone 
is  able  to  render  the  relation  of  facts  of  any 
real  value.  The  mere  story-teller,  who  paints 
the  truth  in  his  own  colors,  may  amuse  for 
an  evening ;  but  unless  we  choose  truth — 
absolute  truth,  as  our  companion  in  early  life, 
the  foundation  of  our  opinions,  as  well  as  of 
our  principles,  will  be  ever  liable  to  give  way. 
We  must,  therefore,  cultivate  a  willingness 
to  see  things  as  they  really  are.  Not  as  our 
friends  do,  or  as  our  enemies  do  not  see 
them ;  but  simply  as  they  are,  and,  as  such, 
to  speak  of  them,  without  the  bias  of  party 
feeling,  or  the  coloring  of  our  own  selfishness. 

The  local  customs  of  the  place  in  which 
we  live,  and  the  habits  of  thinking  of  the 
persons  with  whom  We  associate,  will  natural- 
ly, in  the  course  of  time,  produce  considera- 
ble effect  upon  our  own  views.  But  in  youth, 
the  mind  is  free  to  choose,  open  to  conviction, 
uninfluenced  by  prejudice,  and  comparative- 
ly unoccupied  by  previous  impressions.  It 


32 


THE  DAUGHTERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


is,  therefore,  of  the-utmost  importance,  in  this 
early  stage  of  life,  to  cultivate  that  love  of 
truth  which  will  enable  us  to  see  every  ob- 
ject as  it  really  is,  and  to  see  it  clearly  ;  for 
there  are  vague  impression?,  and  indefinite 
perception?,  which  create  in  the  mind  a  suc- 
cession of  shapeless  images,  as  perplexing  in 
their  variety,  as  they  are  uncertain  in  their 
form. 

Of  persons  whose  minds  are  thus  occupied, 
it  can  scarcely  be  said  that  they  love  the 
truth,  because  they  seldom  endeavor  to  as- 
certain what  the  truth  is ;  and  their  conse- 
quent deviations  from  the  exact  line  of  recti- 
tude in  thought  and  action,  brings  upon  them, 
not  unfrequently,  the  charge  of  falsehood, 
when  they  have  all  the  while  been  true  to  the 
image  floating  before  them,  but  which  assum- 
ed a  different  character  as  often  as  interest  or 
inclination  clothed  it  in  fresh  colors. 

Vague  and  uncertain  habits  of  thinking 
and  talking  in  early  life,  almost  necessarily 
lead  to  false  conclusions ;  nor  is  it  the  least 
part  of  the  evil,  that  those  who  indulge  them 
are  extremely  difficult  to  correct  when  wrong, 
or  rather  when  not  exactly  right ;  because 
conviction  cannot  be  proved  upon  uncertain- 
ty. All  we  can  say  of  such  persons  is,  that 
they  are  as  little  wrong  as  right.  We  can- 
not help  them.  They  are  perpetually  falling 
into  difficulties,  and,  so  long  as  they  live,  will 
be  liable  to  incur  the  suspicion  of  falsehood. 

That  a  little  knowledge  is  a  dangerous 
thing,  may  be  proved  by  the  observation  of 
every  day.  A  little  knowledge  is  generally 
more  talked  about  than  a  great  deal — more 
dragged  forward  into  notice,  and,  in  short, 
more  gloried  in  by  its  possessor.  We  will 
tal;o,  as  an  instance,  the  subject  of 'phrenolo- 
gy. Dabblers  in  this  study  who  like  the^clat 
of  pronouncing  upon  the  characters  of  their 
neighbors,  as  discovered  through  that  opaque 
medium,  the  skull,  are  not  a  little  pleased  to 
entertain  themselves  and  others  with  the 
phraseology  of  Gall  and  Spurzheim ;  while, 
with  an  air  of  oracular  wisdom,  they  tell  how 
this  person  is  covetous,  another  prone  to  kill, 
a  third  fond  of  music,  and  a  fourth  in  the 
habit  of  making  comparisons.  Now,  although 


a  correct  knowledge  of  the  exact  situation 
of  these  different  organs  in  the  head,  is  more 
difficult  to  attain  than  most  young  persons 
are  aware  of;  yet,  even  this  part  of  the  stu- 
dy is  mere  play,  when  compared  with  that 
exercise  of  mind,  which  alone  would  justify 
any  one,  even  the  profoundest  philosopher, 
in  pronouncing  upon  individual  character, 
according  to  the  principles  of  phrenology. 
Would  any  of  these  fair  oracles,  for  instance, 
be  kind  enough  to  tell  us  what  would  be  the 
result,  in  summing  up  the  elements  of  human 
character,  where  there  was  an  extraordinary 
development  of  combativeness,  connected 
with  half  as  much  benevolence,  nine-tenths 
of  the  same  amount  of  hope,  one-third  of 
self-esteem,  three-fourths  of  causality,  and 
one-third  of  constructiveness.  And  yet,  cal- 
culations as  intricate,  as  minute,  and  far  more 
extensive  than  this,  must  be  entered  into,  be- 
fore the  science  of  phrenology,  however  true, 
can  enable  any  individual  to  pronounce  upon 
the  character  of  another. 

And  thu§  it  is  throughout.  A  little  know- 
ledge makes  people  talk,  a  little  more  induces 
them  to  think ;  and  women,  from  the  careless 
and  superficial  manner  in  which  their  studies 
are  frequently  carried  on,  are  but  too  apt  to 
be  found  among  the  class  of  talkers.  But  let 
us  pause  a  moment,  to  inquire  whether  the 
smallness  of  their  stock  of  knowledge  is  re- 
ally the  cause  why  it  is  sometimes  so  unne- 
cessarily brought  forward.  Is  not  the  evil  of 
a  deeper  nature  1  and  may  it  not  arise  from 
false  notions  popularly  entertained  respecting 
the  real  use  of  knowledge  1  I  will  not  say 
there  are  any  women  who  absolutely  believe 
that  the  use  of  knowledge  is  to  supply  them 
with  something  to  talk  about ;  but  are  we 
not  warranted  in  suspecting  that  this  is  the 
rule  by  which  the  value  of  knowledge  is  too 
frequently  estimated  1 

Now,  one  simple  view  of  this  subject  might 
settle  the  question  at  once,  as  to  the  desira- 
bleness, or  even  utility,  of  women  bringing 
forward  their  knowledge  for  the  purpose  of 
display.  It  so  happens,  that  few  of  our  sex, 
under  ordinary  circumstances,  have  an  op- 
portunity of  acquiring  as  much  general  know- 


CLEVERNESS,  LEARNING,  KNOWLEDGE. 


33 


ledge  as  a  man  of  common  attainmerrts,  or 
even  as  a  mere  boy.  If  we  mix  in  country 
circles,  the  village  schoolmaster  has  stores  of 
knowledge  far  beyond  our  own ;  and  in  the 
society  of  towns,  the  man  of  business,  nay, 
even  the  mechanic,  knows  more  than  we  do. 
The  nature  of  their  employments,  the  associ- 
ations they  form,  and  the  subjects  which  en- 
gage their  attention,  all  tend  to  give  to  the 
minds  of  men  in  general,  a  clearness  of  un- 
derstanding on  certain  points,  and  an  ac- 
quaintance with  important  facts,  beyond  what 
is  possessed  by  one  woman  in  a  thousand ; 
though,  at  the  same  time,  women  have  a 
vast  advantage  over  them  in  this  respect, 
that  the  liveliness  and  facility  of  their  intel- 
lectual powers  enable  them  to  invest  with 
interest  many  of  the  inferior  and  less  im- 
portant topics  of  conversation. 

General  knowledge,  however,  is  not  less 
important  to  them,  than  to  men,  in  the  effect 
it  produces  upon  their  own  minds  and  feel- 
ings. A  well-informed  woman  may  generally 
be  known,  not  so  much  by  what  she  tells 
you,  as  by  what  jlhe  does  not  tell  you ;  for 
she  is  the  last  to  take  pleasure  in  mere  gos- 
sip, or  to  make  vulgar  allusions  to  the  ap- 
pearance, dress,  or  personal  habits,  of  her 
friends  and  neighbors.  Her  thoughts  are  not 
in  these  things.  The  train  of  her  reflections 
goes  not  along  with  the  eating,  drinking,  vis- 
iting, or  scandal,  of  the  circle  in  which  she 
moves.  She  has  a  world  of  interest  beyond 
her  local  associations ;  and  while  others  are 
wondering  what  is  the  price  of  her  furniture, 
or  where  she  bought  her  watch,  she,  perhaps, 
is  mentally  solving  that  important  question, 
whether  civilization  ever  was  extinguished  in 
a  Christian  country. 

Nor  is  it  merely  to  be  able  to  say,  when 
asked,  in  what  year  any  particular  sovereign 
reigned,  that  knowledge  is  worth  acquiring. 
Its  highest  use  is  to  be  able  to  assist  on  all 
occasions  in  the  establishment  of  truth,  by  a 
clear  statement  of  facts ;  to  say  what  expe- 
rience has  proved ;  and  to  overcome  preju- 
dice by  just  reasoning.  It  enables  us  also  to 
take  expansive  views  of  every  subject  upon 
which  our  minds  can  be  employed,  so  as 


never  to  argue  against  general  principles, 
from  opposite  impressions  produced  merely 
upon  our  own  minds. 

As  a  further  illustration  of  this  narrow  kind 
of  reasoning,  we  will  suppose  a  case.  A  well- 
meaning,  but  ignorant  man,  derives  a  consid- 
erable income  from  a  sugar  plantation  in  the 
West  Indies,  by  which  he  supports  a  number 
of  poor  relations.  He  argues  thus — "  It  sla- 
very be  abolished,  it  .will  injure  my  profits  ; 
and  I  shall  no  longer  be  able  to  support  my 
relations.  It  is  good  that  I  should  exercise 
my  benevolent  feelings  through  this  channel ; 
consequently,  the  slave-trade  must  also  be 
good.  I  will,  therefore,  neither  vote  for  the 
abolition  of  slavery,  nor  give  my  countenance 
to  those  who  do."  A  more  truly  enlightened 
man,  though  no  more  influenced  by  kindly 
feeling,  would  know,  that  it  must  always  be 
right  to  uphold  right  principles,  and  that  God 
may  safely  be  trusted  with  the  consequences 
to  ourselves. 

Nor  is  it  from  our  own  personal  feelings 
alone,  that  we  become  liable  to  this  perver- 
sion of  judgment,  with  regard  to  things  in 
general.  Prejudice  has  ever  been  found  more 
infectious  than  the  plague,  and  scarcely  less 
fatal.  We  hear  our  friends  speak  warmly  on 
subjects  we  do  not  understand.  They  argue 
vehemently,  and  our  minds,  from  want  of 
knowledge,  are  open  to  receive  as  truth,  the 
greatest  possible  absurdities,  which,  in  our 
turn,  we  embrace  and  defend,  until  they  be- 
come more  dear  to  us  than  truth  itself.  The 
probable  conclusion  is,  that  in  the  course  of 
time,  we  prefer  to  remain  in  error,  rather 
than  be  convinced  that  we  have  all  the  while 
been  wrong.  Thus,  it  is  often  ignorance 
alone  which  lays  the  foundation  of  many  of 
those  serious  mistakes  in  opinion « and  con- 
duct, for  which  we  have  to  bear  all  the  blame, 
and  suffer  all  the  consequences,  of  moral  cul- 
pability. 

Want  of  general  knowledge  is  also  a  very 
sufficient  reason  why  some  persons,  when 
they  mix  in  good  society,  live  in  a  state  of 
perpetual  fear  lest  their  deficiencies  should 
be  found  out  Theirs  is  not  that  amiable 
modesty  which  arises  from  a  sense  of  the 


34 


THE  DAUGHTERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


superiority  of  others  ;  for  to  admire  our 
friends,  or  even  our  fellow-creatures,  is  al- 
ways a  pleasurable  sensation ;  while  a  con- 
viction of  our  own  ignorance  of  such  topics 
as  are  generally  interesting  in  good  society, 
carries  with  it  a  feeling  of  disgraceful  humil- 
iation, perfectly  incompatible  with  enjoyment 
Uneasiness,  timidity,  and  shyness,  with  an 
awkward  shrinking  from  every  office  of  re- 
sponsibility, or  post  Of  distinction,  are  the 
unavoidable  accompaniments  of  this  convic- 
tion ;  and  from  this*  cause,  how  many  oppor- 
tunities of  extending  our  sphere  of  usefulness 
are  lost !  How  many  opportunities  of  rational 
and  lawful  enjoyment,  too,  especially  if,  from 
a  consciousness  of  our  own  inferiority,  we 
refuse  to  associate  with  persons  of  better  in- 
formation and  more  enlightened  minds.  Our 
sufferings  are  then  of  a  twofold  nature,  arising 
from  a  sense  of  mortification  at  our  loss,  and 
from  the  fretfulness  and  irritation  of  temper 
which  such  privations  naturally  occasion. 

It  is  well,  too,  if  envy  does  not  steal  in  to 
poison  the  little  comfort  we  might  otherwise 
have  left — well  if  we  do  not  look  with  evil 
eye  upon  the  higher  attainments  of  our  friends 
— well  if,  while  we  professedly  admire,  we 
do  not  throw  out  some  hint  that  may  tend  to 
diminish  their  vmlue  in  the  estimation  of 
others. 

Thus,  there  is  no  end  to  that  culpable  want 
of  knowledge,  which  must  be  the  consequence 
of  an  idle  or  wasted  youth.  We  may,  and 
we  necessarily  must,  learn  much  in  after 
years  by  experience,  observation,  reading,  and 
conversation.  But  we  are  then,  perhaps,  in 
middle  age,  only  acquiring  a  bare  knowledge 
of  those  facts  which  ought,  in  by-gone  years, 
to  have  been  forming  our  judgment,  fixing 
our  principles,  and  supplying  our  minds  with 
intellectual  food. 

If  there  is  no  calculation  to  be  made  of  the 
evils  arising  from  a  want  of  knowledge,  as 
little  can  we  estimate  the  amount  of  good,  of 
which  knowledge  lays  the  foundation.  Per- 
haps one  of  its  greatest  recommendations  to 
a  woman,  is  the  tendency  it  has  to  diffuse  a 
calm  over  the  ruffled  spirit,  and  to  supply 
subjects  of  interesting  reflection,  under  cir- 


cumstances the  least  favorable  to  the  acqui- 
sition of  new  ideas. 

Such  is  the  position  in  society  which  many 
estimable  women  are  called  to  fill,  that  unless 
they  have  stored  their  minds  with  general 
knowledge  during  the  season  of  youth,  they 
never  have  the  opportunity  of  doing  so  again. 
How  valuable,  then,  is  such  a  store,  to  draw 
upon  for  thought,  when  the  hand  throughout 
the  day  is  busily  employed,  and  sometimes 
when  the  head  is  also  weary  !  It  is  then  that 
knowledge  not  only  sweetens  labor,  but  often, 
when  the  task  is  ended,  and  a  few  social 
friends  are  met  together,  it  conies  forth  un- 
bidden, in  those  glimpses  of  illumination 
which  a  well-informed,  intelligent  woman,  is 
able  to  strike  out  of  the  humblest  material. 
It  is  then  that,  without  the  slightest  attempt 
at  display,  her  memory  helps  her  to  throw  in 
those  apt  allusions,  which  clothe  the  mogt  fa- 
miliar objects  in  borrowed  light,  and  make  us 
feel,  after  having  enjoyed  her  society,  as  if 
we  had  been  introduced  to  a  new,  and  more 
intellectual  existence  tnan  we  had  enjoyed 
before. 

It  is  impossible  for  an  ignorant,  and  con- 
sequently a  short-sighted,  prejudiced  woman, 
to  exercise  this  influence  over  us.  We  soon 
perceive  the  bounds  of  the  narrow  circle 
within  which  she  reasons,  with  self  ever  in 
the  centre ;  we  detect  the  opinions  of  others, 
in  her  own  ;  and  we  feel  the  vulgarity  with 
which  her  remarks  may  turn  upon  ourselves, 
the  moment  we  are  gone. 

How  different  is  the  enjoyment,  the  repose 
we  feel  in  the  society  of  a  well-informed  wo- 
man, who  has  acquired  in  early  youth  the 
habit  of  looking  beyond  the  little  affairs  of 
every-day  existence — of  looking  from  mat- 
ter to  mind — from  action  to  principle — from 
time  to  eternity  !  The  gossip  of  society,  that 
many-toned  organ  of  discord,  seldom  reaches 
her ;  even  slander,  which  so  often  slays  the 
innocent,  she  is  in  many  cases  able  to  disarm. 
Under  all  the  little  crosses  and  perplexities 
which  necessarily  belong  to  household  care, 
she  is  able  to  look  calmly  at  their  comparative 
insignificance,  and  thus  they  can  never  dis- 
turb her  peace  ;  while  in  all  the  pleasures  of 


MUSIC,  PAINTING,  AND  POETRY. 


35 


intellectual  and  social  intercourse,  it  is  her 
privilege  to  give  as  bountifully  as  she  re- 
ceives. 

It  must  not  be  supposed  that  the  writer  is 
one  who  would  advocate,  as  essential  to  wo- 
man, any  very  extraordinary  degree  of  intel- 
ectual  attainment,  especially  if  confined  to 
one  particular  branch  of  study.  "  I  should 
ike  to  excel  in  something,"  is  a  frequent,  and, 
to  some  extent,  laudable  expression ;  but  in 
what  does  it  originate,  and  to  what  does  it 
tend  1  To  be  able  to  do  a  great  many  things 
tolerably  well,  is  of  infinitely  more  value  to  a 
woman,  than  to  be  able  to  excel  in  one.  By 
the  former,  she  may  render  herself  generally 
useful ;  by  the  latter,  she  may  dazzle  for  an 
hour.  By  being  apt,  and  tolerably  well  skilled 
in  every  thing,  she  may  fall  into  any  situation 
in  life  with  dignity  and  ease — by  devoting  her 
time  to  excellence  in  one,  she  may  remain 
incapable  of  every  other. 

So  far  as  cleverness,  learning,  and  know- 
ledge are  conducive  to  woman's  moral  ex- 
cellence, they  are  therefore  desirable,  and  no 
further.  All  that  would  occupy  her  mind  to 
the  exclusion  of  better  things,  all  that  would 
involve  her  in  the  mazes  of  flattery  and  ad- 
mira'Xon,  all  that  would  tend  to  draw  away 
her  thoughts  from  others  and  fix  them  on 
herself,  ought  to  be  avoided  as  an  evil  to  her, 
however  brilliant  or  attractive  it  may  be  in 
itself. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

MUSIC,  PAINTING,  AND   POETRY 

As  a  picture  which  presents  to  the  eye  o) 
the  beholder  those  continuous  masses  of 
light  and  shade  usually  recognised  under  the 
characteristic  of  breadth,  though  it  may  be 
striking,  and  sometimes  even  sublime  in  its 
effect,  yet,  without  the  more  delicate  touches 
of  art,  must  ever  be  defective  in  the  pleasure 
it  affords  ;  so  the  female  character,  though 
invested  with  high  intellectual  endowments, 
must  ever  fail  to  charm,  without  at  least  a 
taste  for  music,  painting,  or  poetry. 


The  first  of  these  requires  no  recommen- 
dation in  the  present  day.  Indeed,  the  danger 
is,  that  the  fair  picture  which  woman's  charac- 
ter ought  to  present,  should  be  broken  up  into 
that  confusion  pf  petty  lights   and  shades, 
which,  in  the  phraseology  of  paintings,  is  said 
to  destroy  its  effect  as  a  whole.     May  we  not 
carry  on  the  similitude  still  further,  and  com. 
pare  the  more  important  intellectual  endow- 
ments of  human  character  to  the  broad  lights 
and  massive  shadows  of  a  picture ;  music, 
to  the  richness  and  variety  of  its  coloring ; 
painting,   to   correctness  and  beauty  of  its 
outline ;  and  poetry,  to  general  harmony  of 
the  whole,  consisting  chiefly  in  the  aerial  or 
atmospheric  tints  which  convey  the  idea  of 
morning,  noon,  or  evening,  a  storm,  a  calm, 
or  any  of  the  seasons  of  the  year  ;  with  all 
the  varied  associations  which  belong  to  each. 
I  have  said  that  music  requires  no  recom- 
mendation in  the  present  day,  when  to  play 
like  a  professor  ranks  among  the  highest  at- 
tainments of  female  education.     Since,  then, 
music  is  so  universally  regarded  both  by  the 
wise  and  good,  not  only  as  lawful,  but  desira- 
ble, it  remains  to  be  considered  under  what 
circumstances  the  practice  of  it  may  be  ex- 
pedient or  otherwise. 

In  the  first  place,  "Have  you  what  is  called 
an  ear  for  music  V  If  you  are  not  annoyed 
by  discord,  nor  made  to  suffer  pain  by  a  false 
note,  nor  disturbed  by  errors  in  time,  let  no 
persuasion  ever  induce  you  to  touch  the  keys 
of  a  piano,  or  the  chords  of  a  harp  again. 

Perhaps  you  may  reply,  "  But  I  am  so  fond 
of  music."  I  question  it  not :  for  though 
difficult  to  be  accounted  for,  many  persons, 
who  have  no  ear,  are  fond  of  music.  Yet, 
why  not,  under  such  circumstances,  be  con- 
tent to  be  a  listener  for  the  rest  of  your  lives, 
and  thankful  that  there  are  others  differently 
constituted,  who  are  able  to  play  for  your 
amusement,  and  who  play  with  ease  in  a 
style  superior  to  what  you  would  have  at- 
tained by  any  amount  of  labor  1  All  have 
not  the  same  natural  gifts.  You,  in  your 
turn,  may  excel  in  something  else;  but  as 
well  might  an  automaton  be  made  to  dance, 
as  a  womun  destitute  of  taste  for  music,  be 


36 


THE  DAUGHTERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


taught  to  play  with  any  hope  of  attaining 
excellence,  or  even  of  giving  pleasure  to  her 
friends.  It  is  possible  that  by  an  immense 
expenditure  of  time  and  money,  a  wooden 
figure  might  be  so  constructed,  to  dance  so 
as  to  take  the  proper  steps  at  the  right  time  ; 
but  the  grace,  the  ease,  indeed  all  that  gives 
beauty  to  the  movements  of  the  dancer,  must 
certainly  be  wanting.  It  is  thus  with  music. 
By  a  fruitless  waste  of  time  and  application, 
the  hand  may  acquire  the  habit  of  touching 
the  right  keys ;  but  all  which  constitutes  the 
soul  of  music  must  be  wanting  to  that  per- 
formance, where  the  ear  is  not  naturally  at- 
tuned to  "the  concord  of  sweet  sounds." 

It  is  a  good  thing  to  be  a  pleased  and  at- 
tentive listener,  even  in  music-  And  far 
happier  sometimes  is  the  unpretending  girl, 
who  sits  apart  silently  listening  to  another's 
voice,  than  any  one  of  the  anxious  group  of 
candidates  for  promotion  to  the  music-stool, 
whose  countenances  occasionally  display  the 
conflicting  emotions  of  hope  and  fear,  tri- 
umph and  disappointment. 

There  are,  however,  among  men,  and  wo- 
men too,  certain  individuals  whose  souls  may 
be  said  to  be  imbued  with  music  as  an  in- 
stinct It  forms  a  part  of  their  existence,  and 
they  only  live  entirely  in  an  atmosphere  of 
sound.  To  such  it  would  be  a  cold  philoso- 
phy to  teach  the  expediency  of  giving  up  the 
cultivation  of  music  altogether,  because  of  the 
temptations  it  involves  ;  and  yet  to  such  in- 
dividuals, above  all  others  music  is  the  most 
dangerous.  To  them  it  may  be  said,  that, 
like  charity,  though  in  a  widely  different 
sense,  it  caters  a  rmdlilude  of  sins ;  for  such 
is  its  influence  over  them,  that  while  carried 
away  by  its  allurements,  they  scarcely  see  or 
feel  like  moral  agents,  so  as  to  distinguish 
good  from  evil ;  and  thus  they  mistake  for  an 
intellectual,  nay,  even  sometimes  for  a  spirit- 
ual enjoyment,  the  indulgence  of  that  passion, 
which  is  but  too  earthly  in  its  associations. 

I  will  not  say  that  music  is  a  species  of  in- 
toxication, but  I  do  think  that  an  inordinate 
love  of  it  may  be  compared  to  intemperance, 
in"  the  fact  of  its  inciting  the  passions  of  the 
human  mind  so  much  more  frequently  to  evil 


than  to  good.  We  are  warranted  by  the  Ian- 
guage  of  Scripture  to  believe,  that  music  is  a 
powerfully  pervading  principle  in  the  uni- 
verse of  God.  The  harmony  of  the  spheres 
is  figuratively  set  forth  under  the  idea  of  the 
morning  stars  singing  together,  and  the  Apoc- 
alyptic vision  abounds  with  allusions  to  ce- 
lestial choirs.  Indeed,  so  perfectly  in  unison 
is  music  with  our  ideas  of  intense  and  ele- 
vated enjoyment,  that  we  can  scarcely  ima- 
gine heaven  without  the  hymning  of  the 
praises  of  the  Most  High  by  the  voices  of  an- 
gels and  happy  spirits.  But  let  it  be  remem- 
bered, that  all  this  is  in  connection  with  a  pu- 
rified state  of  being.  It  is  where  the  serpent 
sin  has  never  entered,  or  after  he  has  been 
destroyed.  So  long  as  the  evil  heart  is  unsub- 
dued— so  long  as  there  are  desperate  passions 
to  awaken — so  long  as  the  hand  of  man  is 
raised  against  his  brother — so  long  as  the  cup 
of  riotous  indulgence  continues  to  be  filled — 
so  long  as  .temptation  lurks  beneath  the  rose- 
leaves  of  enjoyment,  music  will  remain  to  be 
a  dangerous  instrument  in  the  hands  of  those 
who  are  by  nature  and  by  constitution  its 
willing  and  devoted  slaves. 

Even  to  such,  however,  I  would  fain  be- 
lieve, that  when  kept  under  proper  restric- 
tions, and  regulated  by  right  principles,  music 
may  have  its  use.  There  can  be  no  need  to 
advise  such  persons  .to  cultivate,  when  young, 
their  talent  for  music.  The  danger  is,  that 
they  will  cultivate  no  other. 

Between  these  individuals,  and  the  per- 
sons first  described,  there  is  a  numerous  class 
of  human  beings,  of  whom  it  may  be  said, 
that  they  possess  by  nature  a  little  taste  for 
music ;  and  to  these  the  cultivation  of  it  may 
be  dssirable,  or  otherwise,  according  to  their 
situation  in  life,  and  the  views  they  enter- 
tain of  the  use  of  accomplishments  in  general. 
If  the  use  of  accomplishments  be  to  make  a 
show  of  them  in  society,  then  a  little  skill  in 
music  is  certainly  not  worth  its  cost  But  if 
the  object  of  a  daughter  is  to  soothe  the 
weary  spirit  of  a  father  when  he  returns  home 
from  the  office  or  the  counting-house,  where 
he  has  been  toiling  for  her  maintenance  ;  to 
beguile  a  mother  of  her  cares ;  or  to  charm 


MUSIC,  PAINTING,  AND  POETRY. 


37 


a  suffering  sister  into  forgetfulness  of  her 
pain  ;  then  a  very  little  skill  in  music  may 
often  be  made  to  answer  as  noble  a  purpose 
as  a  great  deal ;  and  never  does  a  daughter 
appear  to  more  advantage,  than  when  she 
cheerfully  lays  aside  a  fashionable  air,  and 
strums  over,  for  more  than  the  hundredth 
time,  some  old  ditty  which  her  father  loves. 
To  her  ear  it  is  possible  it  may  be  altogether 
divested  of  the  slightest  charm.  But  of  what 
importance  is  that  ]  The  old  man  listens  un- 
til tears  are  glistening  in  his  eyes,  for  he  sees 
again  the  home  of  his  childhood — he  hears 
his  father's  voice — he  feels  his  mother's  wel- 
come— all  things  familiar  to  his  heart  in  early 
youth  come  back  to  him  with  that  long  re- 
membered strain  ;  and,  happiest  thought  of 
all !  they  are  revived  by  the  playful  fingers 
of  his  own  beloved  child.  The  brother  too — 
the  prodigal — the  alien  from  the  paths  of 
peace ;  in  other  lands,  that  fireside  music 
haunts  his  memory.  The  voice  of  the  stran- 
ger has  no  melody  for  him.  His  heart  is 
chilled.  He  says,  "  I  will  arise  and  go  to  my 
father's  home,"  where  a  welcome,  a  heart- 
warm  welcome,  still  awaits  him.  Yet  so  wide 
has  been  the  separation,  that  a  feeling  of 
estrangement  still  remains,  and  neither  words, 
nor  looks,  nor  affectionate  embraces  can 
make  the  past  come  back  unshadowed,  or 
dispel  the  cloud  which  settles  upon  every 
heart.  The  sister  feels  this.  She  knows  the 
power  of  music,  and  when  the  day  is  closing 
in,  that  first  strange  day  of  partial  reconcilia- 
tion, she  plays  a  low  soft  air.  Her  brother 
knows  it  well.  It  is  the  evening  hymn  they 
used  to  sing  together  in  childhood,  when  they 
had  been  all  day  gathering  flowers.  His 
manly  voice  is  raised.  Once  more  it  mingles 
with  the  strain.  Once  more  the  parents  and 
the  children,  the  sister  and  the  brother,  are 
united  as  in  days  gone  by. 

It  requires  no  extraordinary  skill  in  exe- 
cution to  render  music  subservient  to  the 
purposes  of  social  and  domestic  enjoyment ; 
but  it  does  require  a  willing  spirit,  and  a  feel- 
ing mind,  to  make  it  tell  upon  the  sympathies 
and  affections  of  our  nature. 

There  is  a  painful  spectacle  occasionally 


exhibited  in  private  life,  when  a  daughter  re- 
fuses to  play  for  the  gratification  of  her  own 
family,  or  casts  aside  with  contempt  the  mu- 
sic they  prefer;  yet  when  a  stranger  joins 
the  circle,  and  especially  when  many  guests 
are  met,  she  will  sit  down 'to  the  piano  with 
the  most  obliging  air  imaginable,  and  play 
with  perfect  good-will  whatever  air  the  com- 
pany may  choose.  What  must  the  parents 
of  such  a  daughter  feel,  if  they  recollect  the 
fact,  that  it  was  at  their  expense  their  child 
acquired  this  pleasing  art,  by  which  she  ap- 
pears anxious  to  charm  any  one  but  them  1 
And  how  does  the  law  of  love  operate  with 
her !  Yet,  music  is  the  very  art,  which  by 
its  mastery  over  the  feelings  and  affections, 
calls  forth  more  tenderness  than  any  other. 
Surely,  then,  the  principle  of  love  ought  to 
regulate  the  exercise  of  this  gift,  in  propor- 
tion to  its  influence  upon  the  human  heart 
Surely,  it  ought  not  to  be  cultivated  as  the 
medium  of  display,  so  much  as  the  means  of 
home  enjoyment ;  not  so  much  as  a  spell  to 
charm  the  stranger,  or  one  who  has  no  other 
link  of  sympathy  with  us,  as  a  solace  to 
those  we  love,  and  a  tribute  of  gratitude  and 
affection  to  those  who  love  us. 

With  regard  to  the  application  and  use  of 
the  art  of  painting,  or  perhaps  we  ought  to 
say  drawing,  there  is  a  very  serious  mistake 
generally  prevailing  among  young  persons, 
as  well  as  among  some  who  are  more  ad- 
vanced in  life.  Drawing,  as  well  as  music, 
is  not  only  considered  as  something  to  enter- 
tain company  with,  but  its  desirableness  as 
an  art  is  judged  of  precisely  by  the  estimate 
which  is  formed  of  those  pieces  of  polished 
pasteboard  brought  home  from  school,  and 
exhibited  as  specimens  of  genius  in  the  de- 
lineation of  gothic  arches,  ruined  cottages, 
and  flowers  as  flat  and  dry  as  the  paper  on 
which  they  are  painted.  The  use  of  draw- 
ing, in  short,  is  almost  universally  judged  of 
among  young  ladies,  by  what  it  enables  them 
to  produce ;  and  no  wonder,  when  such  are 
the  productions,  that  its  value  should  be  held 
rather  cheap. 

It  has  often  been  said  with  great  truth, 
that  the  first  step  towards  excellence  in  the 


THE  DAUGHTERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


art  of  drawing,  is  to  learn  to  see ;  and  cer- 
tainly, nothing  can  be  more  correct  than  that 
the  quickening  of  the  powers  of  observation, 
the  habit  of  regarding,  not  only  the  clear  out- 
line, but  the  relative  position  of  objects,  with 
the  extension  of  the  sphere  of  thought  which 
is  thus  obtained,  is  of  infinitely  more  value  in 
forwarding  the  great  work  of  intellectual  ad- 
vancement, than  all  the  actual  productions 
of  female  artists  since  the  world  began. 

There  are  many  very  important  reasons 
why  drawing  should  be  especially  recom- 
mended to  the  attention  of  young  persons, 
and  I  am  the  more  anxious  to  point  thpm 
out,  because,  among  the  higher  circles  of  so- 
ciety, it  appears  to  be  sinking  into  disrepute, 
in  comparison  with  music.  Among  such 
persons,  it  is  beginning  to  be  considered  as  a 
sort  of  handicraft,  or  as  something  which 
artists  can  do  better  than  ladies.  In  this 
they  are  perfectly  right;  but  how  then  are 
they  to  reap  the  advantage  to  themselves, 
which  I  am  about  to  describe  as  resulting 
from  an  attentive  cultivation  of  the  graphic 
art] 

Among  these  advantages,  I  will  begin  with 
the  least  It  is  quiet.  It  disturbs  no  one ;  for 
however  defective  the  performance  may  be, 
it  does  not  necessarily,  like  music,  jar  upon 
the  sense.  It  is  true,  it  may  when  seen  of- 
fend the  practised  eye ;  but  we  can  always 
draw  in  private,  and  keep  our  productions 
to  ourselves.  In  addition  to  this,  it  is  an  em- 
ployment which  beguiles  the  mind  of  many 
cares,  because  it  never  can  be  merely  me- 
chanical. The  thoughts  must  go  along  with 
it,  for  the  moment  the  attention  wanders,  the 
hand  ceases  from  its  operations,  owing  to  the 
necessity  there  is  that  each  stroke  should  be 
differer.t  from  any  which  has  previously  been 
made.  Under  the  pressure  of  anxiety,  in 
seasons  of  Detracted  suspense,  or  when  no 
effort  can  be  made  to  meet  an  expected 
calamity,  especia'ty  when  that  calamity  is 
exclusively  our  owr,.  drawing  is  of  all  other 
occupations  the  one  nnst  calculated  to  keep 
the  mind  from  brooding  upon  self,  and  to 
maintain  that  general  cheerfulness  which  is 
a  part  of  social  and  domestic  duty. 


Drawing,  unlike  most  other  arts,  may  be 
taken  up  at  any  time  of  life,  though  certainly 
with  less  prospect  of  success  than  when  it 
has  been  pursued  in  youth.  It  can  also  be 
laid  down  and  resumed,  as  circumstance  or 
inclination  may  direct,  and  that  without  any 
serious  loss ;  for  while  the  hand  is  employed 
in  other  occupations,  the  eye  may  be  learn- 
ing useful  lessons  to  be  worked  out  on  some 
future  day. 

But  the  great,  the  wonder-working  power 
of  the  graphic  art,  is  that  by  which  it  enables 
us  to  behold,  as  by  a  new  sense  of  vision, 
the  beauty  and  the  harmony  of  the  creation. 
Many  have  this  faculty  of  perception  in  their 
nature,  who  never  have  been  taught,  perhaps 
not  allowed,  to  touch  a  pencil,  and  who  re- 
main to  the  end  of  their  lives  unacquainted 
with  the  rules  of  painting  as  an  art  To 
them  this  faculty  affords  but  glimpses  of  the 
ideal,  in  connection  with  the  real;  but  to 
such  as  have  begun  to  practise  the  art,  by 
first  learning  to  see,  each  succeeding  day  un- 
folds some  new  scene  in  that  vast  picture, 
which  the  ever- varying  aspect  of  nature  pre- 
sents. As  the  faculty  of  hearing,  in  the  sav- 
age Indian  is  sharpened  to  an  almost  incied- 
ible  degree  of  acuteness,  simply  from  the  fre- 
quent need  he  has  for  the  use  of  that  partic- 
ular sense ;  so  the  eye  of  the  painter,  from 
the  habit  of  regarding  every  object  with  refer- 
ence to  its  position  and  effect,  beholds  ten 
thousand  points  of  interest,  which  the  un- 
practised in  this  art  never  perceive.  There 
is  not  a  shadow  on  the  landscape,  not  a 
gleam  of  sunshine  in  the  fields,  not  a  leaf  in 
the  forest,  nor  a  flower  on  the  lea,  not  a  sail 
upon  the  ocean,  nor  a  cloud  in  the  sky,  but 
they  all  form  parts  of  that  unfading  picture, 
upon  which  his  mind  perpetually  expatiates 
without  satiety  or  weariness. 

It  is  a  frequent  complaint  with  travellers, 
that  they  find  the  scenery  around  them  in- 
sipid ;  but  this  can  never  occur  to  the  artist, 
through  whatever  country  he  may  roam.  A 
turn  in  the  road,  with  a  bunch  of  furze  on 
one  side,  and  a  stunted  oak  on  the  other,  is 
sufficient  to  arrest  his  attention,  and  occupy 
a  page  in  his  sketch-book.  A  willowy  brook 


MUSIC,  PAINTING,  AND  POETRY. 


39 


in  the  deep  meadows,  with  cattle  grazing  on 
its  banks,  is  the  subject  of  another.  The  tat- 
tered mendicant  is  a  picture,  of  himself;  or 
the  sturdy  wagoner  with  his  team,  or  the  sol- 
itary orphan  sitting  in  the  porch  of  the  vil- 
lage-church. Every  group  around  the  door 
of  the  inn,  every  party  around  the  ancient 
elm  in  the  centre  of  the  hamlet,  every  beast 
of  burden  feeding  by  the  way-side,  has  to 
him  a  beauty  and  a  charm,  which  his  art  en- 
ables him  to  revive  and  perpetuate. 

It  is  the  same  when  he  mingles  in  society. 
Hundreds  and  thousands  of  human  beings 
may  pass  by  the  common  observer  without 
exciting  a  single  thought  or  feeling,  beyond 
their  relative  position  with  regard  to  himself. 
But  the  painter  sees  in  almost  every  face  a 
picture.  He  beholds  a  grace  in  almost  every 
attitude,  a  scene  of  interest  in  every  group ; 
and,  while  his  eye  is  caught  by  the  classic 
beauty  of  an  otherwise  insignificant  counte- 
nance, he  arrests  it  in  the  position  where 
light  and  shadow  are  most  harmoniously 
blended ;  and,  behold  !  it  lives  again  beneath 
his  touch — another,  yet  the  same. 

In  every  object,  however  familiar  in  itself, 
or  unattractive  in  other  points  of  view,  the 
painter  perceives  at  once  what  is  striking, 
characteristic,  harmonious,  or  graceful ;  and 
thus,  while  associating  in  the  ordinary  affairs 
of  life,  he  feels  himself  the  inhabitant  of  a 
world  of  beauty,  from  which  others  are  shut 
out 

Would  that  we  could  dwell  with  more 
satisfaction  upon  this  ideal  existence,  as  it 
affects  the  morals  of  the  artist's  real  life  ! 
Whatever  there  may  be  defective  here,  how- 
ever, as  regards  the  true  foundation  of  hap- 
piness, is  surely  not  attributable  to  the  art  it- 
self; but  to  the  necessity  under  which  too 
many  labor,  of  courting  public  favor,  and 
sometimes  of  sacrificing  the  dignity  of  their 
profession  to  its  pecuniary  success. 

Nor  is  it  an  object  of  desirable  attainment 
to  women  in  general,  that  they  should  study 
the  art  of  painting  to  this  extent.  Amply 
sufficient  for  all  their  purposes,  is  the  habit 
of  drawing  from  natural  objects  with  correct- 
ness and  facility.  Copying  from  other  draw- 


ings, though  absolutely  necessary  to  the  learn- 
er, is  but  the  first  step  towards  those  innu- 
merable advantages  which  arise  from  an  easy 
and  habitual  use  of  the  pencil.  Yet  here 
how  many  stop,  and  think  their  education  in 
the  graphic  art  complete  !  They  think  also, 
what  is  most  unjust  of  drawing,  that  it  is  on- 
ly the  amusement  of  an  idle  hour,  incapable 
of  producing  any  happier  result  than  an  ex- 
act foe-simile  of  the  master's  lesson.  No 
wonder,  that  with  such  ideas,  they  should 
evince  so  little  inclination  to  continue  this 
pursuit  on  lemving  school.  For  though  it  is  a 
common  thing  to  hear  young  ladies  exclaim, 
how  much  they  should  like  to  sketch  from 
nature,  and  how  much  they  should  like  to 
take  likenesses,  it  is  very  rarely  that  we  find 
one  really  willing  to  take  a  hundredth  part 
of  the  pains  which  are  necessary  to  the  at- 
tainment even  of  mediocrity  in  either  of 
these  departments.  That  it  is  in  reality 
easier,  and  far  more  pleasant,  to  sketch 
from  nature,  than  from  another  drawing,  is 
allowed  by  all  who  have  made  the  experi- 
ment on  right .  principles ;  which,  however, 
few  young  persons  are  able  to  do,  because 
they  are  so  seldom  instructed  in  what,  if  I 
might  be  allowed  the  expression,  I  should 
call  the  philosophy  of  picture-making,  or^in 
other  words,  the  relation  of  cause  and  effect 
in  the  grouping  and  general  management 
of  objects,  so  as  to  unite  a  number  of  parts 
into  a  perfect  and  pleasing  whole. 

Perspective  is  the  first  step  in  this  branch 
of  philosophy,  but  the  nature  and  effect  of 
light  and  shade,  with  the  proportions  and  re- 
lations of  different  objects,  and  harmony,  that 
grand  feature  of  beauty,  must  all  have  be- 
come subjects  of  interest  and  observation,  be- 
fore we  can  hope  to  sketch  successfully  ;  and 
especially,  before  we  can  derive  that  high 
degree  of  intellectual  enjoyment  from  the  art 
of  painting,  which  it  is  calculated  to  afford. 
Yet  all  these,  by  close  and  frequent  attention, 
may  be  learned  from  nature  itself,  though  an 
early  acquaintance  with  the  rules  of  art  will 
greatly  assist  the  understanding  in  this  school 
of  philosophy. 

Among  the  numerous  mistakes  made  by 


40 


THE  DAUGHTERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


young  people  on  the  subject  of  drawing,  none 
is  a  greater  hindrance  to  their  efforts,  than 
an  idea  which  generally  prevails,  that  not 
only  drawing  itself,  but  each  different  branch 
of  the  art,  requires  a  natural  genius  for  that 
particular  study.  Thus,  while  one  excuses 
herself  from  drawing  because  she  has  no 
genius  for  it ;  another  tells  you,  that  although 
she  can  draw  landscapes  with  great  facility, 
she  has  no  genius  for  heads.  Now,  if  genius 
be,  as  Madame  de  Stael  informs  us,  M  en- 
thusiasm operating  upon  talent,"  I  freely 
grant  that  it  is  essential  to  success  in  this,  as 
well  as  every  other  art  You  must  not  only 
learn  it,  but  you  must  absolutely  loi?  it,  was 
the  frequent  expression  of  a  very  clever  mas- 
ter to  his  pupil.  And  it  is  this  very  love, 
which  of  itself  will  carry  on  the  young  student 
to  any  point  of  excellence,  which  it  is  desir- 
able for  a  woman  to  attain. 

It  is  true,  there  are  greater  difficulties  to 
some  than  to  others  ;  just  as  the  eye  is  more 
or  less  acute  in  its  perceptions,  or  the  com- 
munication between  that  and  the  hand  more 
or  less  easy.  Yet,  with  the  same  amount' of 
genius  and  a  little  more  patience,  with  a  little 
more  humility  too,  for  that  has  more  to  do 
with  success  in  painting  than  the  inexperi- 
en%ed  are  aware  of,  these  difficulties  may 
easily  be  overcome. 

I  have  said  that  humility  is  necessary  to 
our  success,  and  it  operates  precisely  in  this 
manner.  It  always  happens  that  the  eye 
has  been  in  training  for  observation,  long  be- 
fore the  hand  begins  to  trace  so  much  as  a 
bare  outline  of  what  the  eye  perceives.  Thus, 
our  first  attempts  at  imitation  fall  so  far  short, 
not  only  of  the  real,  but  also  of  the  ideal 
which  the  mind  retains,  that  if  praise  or  ad- 
miration have  had  any  thing  to  do  with  inci- 
ting us  to  draw,  the  mortification  which  en- 
sues will  probably  be  more  than  a  young  art- 
ist can  endure.  She  must,  therefore,  be 
humble  enough  to  be  willing  to  proceed  with- 
out praise,  sometimes  without  commendation, 
and  occasionally  with  a  more  than  comfort- 
able share  of  ridicule,  as  the  reward  of  her 
first  endeavors;  all  which  might  possibly  be 
borne  with  equanimity,  if  she  did  not  herself 


perceive  a  fearful  want  of  resemblance  to  the 
thing  designed.  ( 

The  practice  of  drawing  the  human  face 
and  figure,  is  a  sufficient  illustration  of  this 
fact.  For  one  who  succeeds  in  this  branch 
of  drawing,  there  are  twenty  who  succeed  in 
landscapes;  because,  those  who  fail  assure 
you,  it  is  so  much  more  difficult  to  draw  faces 
and  figures.  This  statement,  however,  is  al- 
together unsupported  by  reason,  since  it  re- 
quires just  the  same  use  of  the  eye  and  the 
hand,  and  just  the  same  exercise  of  the  mind, 
to  draw  one  object  as  another ;  and  provided 
only  the  object  drawn  is  stationary,  it  is  quite 
as  easy  to  trace  with  accuracy  the  outline  of 
a  head,  as  of  a  tree,  or  a  mountain. 

There  is,  however,  a  wide  difference  in  the 
result.  By  a  slight  deviation  from  the  true 
outline  of  a  mountain,  no  great  injury  to  the 
general  effect  of  a  landscape  is  produced ; 
while  the  same  degree  of  deviation  from  the 
outline  of  a  face,  will  sometimes  entirely  de- 
stroy, not  only  the  likeness,  but  the  beauty  of 
the  whole.  Even  a  branch  of  a  tree,  and 
sometimes  a  whole  tree,  may  be  omitted  in 
a  landscape ;  but  if  a  nose,  or  an  eye,  were 
found  wanting  in  the  drawing  of  a  face,  it 
would  be  difficult  to  treat  the  performance 
with  any  thing  like  gravity. 

Thus,  then,  the  vanity  of  the  young  stu- 
dents is  more  severely  put  to  the  test  in  delin- 
eations of  the  human  form,  than  it  can  be  in 
landscape  drawing ;  and  thus  they  are  apt 
to  say,  they  have  no  genius  for  heads  or  fig- 
ures, because  their  love  of  excellence,  though 
sufficient  for  the  purposes  of  landscape  draw- 
ing, is  not  strong  enough  to  support  them 
under  the  mortification  of  having  produced  a 
badly  drawn  face  or  figure. 

It  is  not  the  least  among  the  advantages 
of  drawing,  that  it  induces  a  habit  of  perpet- 
ually aiming  at  ideal  excellence ;  in  other 
t  words,  that  it  draws  the  mind  away  from 
considering  the  grosser  qualities  of  matter, 
to  the  cpntemplation  of  beauty  as  an  abstract 
idea  ;  that  it  gives  a  definiteness  to  our  no- 
tions of  objects  in  general,  and  enables  us  to 
describe,  with  greater  accuracy,  the  character 
and  appearance  of  every  thing  we  see. 


MUSIC,  PAINTING,  AND  POETRY. 


41 


Nor  ought. we  by  any  means  to  overlook 
the  value  of  that  which  th,e  pencil  actually 
produces.  Sketches  of  scenery,  however 
defective  as  works  of  art,  are  among  the  pre- 
cious memorials  of  which  time,  the  great  de- 
stroyer, is  unable  to  deprive  us.  In  them  the 
traveller  lives  again,  through  all  the  joys  and 
sorrows  of  his  distant  wanderings.  He 
breathes  again  the  atmosphere  of  that  far 
world  which  his  eye  will  never  more  behold. 
He  treads  again  the  mountain-path  where 
his  step  was  never  weary.  He  sees  the  sun- 
shine on  the  snowy  peaks  which  rise  no  more 
to  him.  He  hears  again  the  shout  of  joyous 
exultation,  when  it  bursts  from  hearts  as  young 
and  buoyant  as  his  own ;  and  he  remembers, 
at  the  same  time,  how  it  was  with  him  in 
those  by-gone  days,  when,  for  the  moment, 
he  was  lifted  up  above  the  grovelling  cares 
of  every- day  existence. 

But,  above  all,  the  art  which  preserves  to 
us  the  features  of  the  loved  and  lost,  ought 
to  be  cultivated  as  a  means  of  natural  and 
enduring  gratification.  It  is  curious  to  look 
back  to  the  portrait  of  infancy,  or  even  youth, 
when  the  same  countenance  is  stamped  with 
the  deep  traces  of  experience,  when  the  ven- 
erable brow  is  ploughed  with  furrows,  and 
the  temples  are  shaded  with  scattered,  locks 
of  silvery  hair.  It  is  interesting — deeply  in- 
teresting, to  behold  the  likeness  of  some  dis- 
tinguished character,  with  whose  mind  we 
have  long  been  acquainted,  through  the  me- 
dium of  his  works ;  but  the  beloved  counte- 
nance, whose  every  line  of  beauty  was  min- 
gled with  our  young  affections,  when  this  can 
be  made  to  live  before  us,  after  death  has 
done  his  fearful  work,  and  the  grave  has 
claimed  its  own — we  may  well  say,  in  the 
language  of  the  poet,  of  that  magic  skill  which 
has  such  power  over  the  past,  as  to  call  up 
buried  images,  and  clothe  them  again  in  beau- 
ty and  in  youth, 

"  Bless'd  be  the  art  that  can  immortalize, 
The  art  that  baffles  Time's  tyrannic  claim 
To  quench  it." 

Beyond  these,  however,  there  are  uses  in 
the  art  of  drawing  so  well  worthy  the  consid- 


eration of  every  young  woman  of  enlighten- 
ed mind,  that  we  cannot  too  earnestly  recom- 
mend this  occupation  to  their  attention,  even 
although  it  should  be  at  some  sacrifice  of  that 
labyrinthine  toil  of  endless  worsted-work, 
with  which,  in  the  case  of  modern  young 
ladies,  both  head  and  hand  appear  to  be  so 
perseveringly  employed.  I  freely  grant  the 
charm  there  is  in  weaving  together  the  many 
tints  of  German  wool,  but  what  does  this 
amusement  do  for  the  mind,  except  to  keep 
it  quiet,  and  not  always  that  ]  Now,  the  sub- 
stitute I  would  propose  for  this  occupation, 
is  equally  pleasing  in  the  variety  of  colors 
employed,  and  yet  calculated  to  be  highly 
beneficial  in  its  influence  upon  the  mind,  by 
increasing  its  store  of  knowledge,  and  sup- 
plying a  perpetual  source  of  rational  interest, 
even  at  times  when  the  occupation  itself  can- 
not well  be  carried  on. 

My  proposition,  then,  is  this  :  that,  in  pur- 
suing the  study  of  botany,  instead  of  the  un- 
attractive horlus  siccus,  which  pleases  no  one 
but  the  scientific  beholder,  correct  and  natu- 
ral drawings  should  be  made  of  every  speci- 
men, just  as  it  appears  when  growing,  or 
when  freshly  gathered.  Instead  of  the 
colorless,  distorted,  hot-pressed  specimens, 
which  the  botanist  now  displays,  to  the  utter 
contempt  of  all  uninitiated  in  his  lore,  we 
should  then  have  beautiful  and  imperishable 
pictures  of  graceful,  delicate,  or  curious 
plants,  looking  just  as  they  did  .when  the 
mountain-wind  blew  over  them,  or  when 
the  woodland  stream  crept  in  among  their 
thousand  stems,  and  kissed  the  drooping 
blossoms  that  hung  upon  its  banks.  We 
might  then  have  them  placed  before  us  in  all 
their  natural  loveliness,  either  the  flower,  the 
branch,  or  the  entire  plant ;  and  sometimes, 
to  render  the  picture  more  complete,  the 
characteristic  scenery  by  which  it  is  usually 
surrounded. 

But  if  in  botany  the  practice  of  this  art  is 
so  desirable,  how  much  more  so  does  it  be- 
come in  entomology,  where  the  study  can 
scarcely  be  carried  on  without  a  sacrifice  of 
life  most  revolting  to  the  female  mind. 
What  beautiful  specimens  might  we  not 


42 


THE  DAUGHTERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


have  of  the  curious  caterpillar,  with  a  branch 
of  the  tree  on  which  it  feeds  ;  then  the  larva 
and  its  silken  bed  ;  and  lastly,  the  splendid 
butterfly,  whose  expanded  wings  no  cruel 
touch  could  ruffle  ;  all  forming  pictures  of 
the  most  interesting  and  delightful  character, 
and  powerfully  contrasted  in  the  associations 
they  would  excite,  with  those  regular  rows 
of  moths  and  beetles  pricked  on  paper,  which 
our  juvenile  collectors  now  exhibit 

It  may  be  said,  that  even  such  specimens 
of  insects  could  scarcely  be  obtained  without 
some  sacrifice  of  life  or  liberty  ;  but  we  all 
know  that  when  the  eye  and  the  hand  are 
habituated  to  catch  the  likeness  of  any  object, 
it  is  done  with  increasing  facility  each  time 
the  experiment  is  made,  until  a  comparative- 
ly slight  observation  of  the  general  appear- 
ance, position,  and  characteristic  features  of 
the  living  model,  is  sufficient  for  the  artist  in 
the  completion  of  his  likeness. 

The  same  facility  of  delineation  would  as- 
sist our  researches  through  the  whole  range 
of  natural  history.  By  such  means  we  should 
not  only  be  supplied  with  endless  amuse- 
ment, but  might  at  the  same  time  be  adding 
to  our  store  of  useful  knowledge.  We 
should  not  only  be  making  ourselves  better 
acquainted  with  the  poetry  of  nature,  but 
with  its  reality  too.  For  what  is  there,  either 
practical  or  real,  in  the  specimens  of  plants 
and  insects  as  we  generall/find  them  ?  Real 
they  unquestionably  are,  in  one  sense,  as  the 
mummy  is  a  real  man  ;  but  who  would  point 
to  that  pitiful  vestige  of  mortality  as  exhibit- 
ing the  real  characteristics  of  a  human  being  1 

It  seems  to  me  a  perfectly  natural  subject 
of  repulsion,  when  the  poet  exclaims — 

"  Nor  would  I  like  to  spread 
My  thin  and  withered  face, 
The  hortus  siccus,  pale  and  dead, 
A  mummy  of  my  race." 

And  few  there  are  who  would  not  prefer  to 
such  miserable  memorials,  as  actually  more 
real,  a  well-painted  likeness  of  a  departed 
friend,  with  the  expression  of  countenance, 
the  dress,  the  position,  and  the  circumstances 
with  which  the  memory  of  that  friend  was 
associated. 


Drawing  is,  unfortunately,  one  of  those 
accomplishments  which  are  too  frequently 
given  up  at  the  time  of  life  when  they  might 
be  most  useful  to  others, — when  they  might 
really  be  turned  to  good  account,  in  that 
early  expansion  and  development  of  mind, 
which  belong  exclusively  to  woman  in  her 
maternal  capacity  ;  but  as  this  view  of  the 
subject  belongs  more  properly  to  a  later  stage 
of  the  present  work,  we  will  pass  on  to  ask, 
In  what  degree  of  estimation  poetry  is,  and 
ought  to  be  held,  by  the  daughters  of  Eng- 
land in  the  present  day  ? 

There  have  been  eras  in  our  history,  when 
poetry  assumed  a  more  than  reasonable 
sway  over  the  female  mind  ;  when  an  ac- 
quaintance with  the  Muses  was  considered 
essential  to  a  polished  education,  and  when 
the  very  affectation  of  poetic  feeling  proved 
how  high  a  value  was  attached  to  the  reality. 
It  would  be  useless  now  to  speak  of  the  ab- 
surdities into  which  the  young  and  sensitive 
were  often  betrayed  by  this  extreme  of  pub- 
lic taste.  Such  times  are  gone  by,  and  the 
opposite  extreme  is  now  the  tendency  of 
popular  feeling.  It  is  not  to  be  wondered  at 
that  this  should  be  the  case  with  men ;  be- 
cause, as  a  nation,  our  fathers,  husbands, 
sons,  and  brothers  are  becoming  more  and 
more  involved  in  the  necessity  of  providing 
for  mere  animal  existence.  No  wonder, 
^hen,  that  in  our  teeming  cities  poetry  should 
be  compelled  to  hide  her  diminished  head  ; 
or  that  even,  pursuing  the  man  of  business 
home  to  his  suburban  villa,  she  should  leave 
him  to  his  stuffed  armchair,  in  the  arms  of 
that  heavy,  after-dinner  sleep,  which  so 
frequently  succeeds  to  his  short  and  busy 
day  of  unremitting  struggle  and  excitement 
Nor  is  this  all.  If  poetry  should  seek  the 
quiet  fields,  as  in  the  days  of  their  pastoral 
beauty,  even  from  these,  her  green  and  flow- 
ery haunts,  she  is  scared  away  by  the  steam- 
ing torrent,  the  reeking  chimney,  and  the  fiery 
locomotive  ;  while  on  the  wide  ocean,  where 
her  ancient  realm  was  undisputed,  her  silvery 
trace  upon  the  bosom  of  the  deep  waters  is 
now  ploughed  up  by  vulgar  paddles ;  and 
all  the  voiceless  mystery  of  "  viewless  winds," 


MUSIC,  PAINTING,  AND  POETRY. 


43 


which  in  the  old  time  held  the  minds  of  ex- 
pectant thousands  under  their  command,  is 
now  become  a  thing  of  no  account — a  by- 
word, or  a  jest 

I  speak  not  with  childish  or  ignorant  re- 
pining of  these  things.  We  are  told  by  po- 
litical economists  that  it  is  good  they  should 
be  so,  and  I  presume  not  to  dispute  the  fact. 
Yet,  surely,  if  it  be  the  business  of  man  to 
give  up  the  strength  of  his  body,  the  energy 
of  his  mind,  and  the  repose  of  his  soul,  for 
his  country's  prosperity  or — his  own  ;  it  is 
for  woman,  who  labors  under  no  such  press- 
ing necessity,  to  make  a  stand  against  the 
encroachments  of  this  popular  tendency, — I 
had  almost  said,  this  national  disease. 

What  is  poetry  ?  is  a  question  which  has 
been  asked  a  thousand  times,  and  perhaps 
never  clearly  answered.  I  presume  not  to 
suppose  my  own  definition  more  happy  than 
others  ;  but  in  a  work*  already  before  the 
public,  I  have  been  at  some  pains  to  place 
this  subject  in  a  point  of  view  at  once»  clear 
and  attractive.  My  idea  of  poetry  as  ex- 
plained in  this  work,  and  it  remains  to  be  the 
same,  is,  that  it  is  best  understood  by  that 
chain  of  association  which  connects  the  intel- 
lects with  the  affections  ;  so  that  whatever  is 
so  far  removed  from  vulgarity,  as  to  excite 
ideas  of  sublimity,  beauty,  or  tenderness, 
may  be  said  to  be  poetical ;  though  the  force 
of  such  ideas  must  depend  upon  the  man- 
ner in  which  they  are  presented  to  the 
mind,  as  well  as  to  the  nature  of  the  mind 
itself. 

When  the  character  of  an  individual  is 
deeply  imbued  with  poetic  feeling,  there  is 
a  corresponding  disposition  to  look  beyond 
the  dull  realities  of  common  life,  to  the  ideal 
relation  of  things,  as  they  connect  them- 
selves with  our  passions  and  feelings,  or  with 
the  previous  impressions  we  have  received 
of  loveliness  or  grandeur,  repose  or  excite- 
ment, harmony  or  beauty,  in  the  universe 
around  us.  This  disposition,  it  must  be 
granted,  has  been  in  some  instances  a  for- 
midable obstacle  to  the  even  tenor  of  the 


*  The  Poetry  of  Life. 


wise  man's  walk  on  earth ;  but  let  us  not, 
while  solicitous  to  avoid  the  abuse  of  poetic 
feeling,  rush  into  the  opposite  excess  of  neg- 
lecting the  high -and  heaven-born  principle 
altogether. 

It  is  the  taste  of  the  present  times  to  invest 
the  material  with  an  immeasurable  extent  of 
importance  beyond  the  ideal.  It  is  the  ten- 
dency of  modern  education  to  instil  into  the 
youthful  mind  the  necessity  of  knowing,  ra- 
ther than  the  advantage  of  feeling.  And,  to 
a  certain  extent,  "  knowledge  is  power ;"  but 
neither  is  knowledge  all  that  we  live  for,  nor 
power  all  that  we  enjoy.  There  are  deep 
mysteries  in  the  book  of  nature  which  all  can 
feel,  but  none  will  ever  understand,  until  the 
veil  of  mortality  shall  be  withdrawn.  There 
are  stirrings  in  the  heart  of  man  which  con- 
stitute the  very  essence  of  his  being,  and 
which  power  can  neither  satisfy  nor  subdue. 
Yet  this  mystery  reveals  more  truly  than  the 
clearest  proofs,  or  mightiest  deductions  of 
science,  that  a  master-hand  has  been  for 
ages,  and  is  still  at  work,  above,  beneath, 
and  around  us ;  and  this  moving  principle  is 
forever  reminding  us,  that,  in  our  nature, 
we  inherit  the  germs  of  a  future  existence, 
over  which  time  has  no  influence,  and  the 
grave  no  victory.* 

If,  then,  for  man  it  be  absolutely  necessary 
that  he  should  sacrifice  the  poetry  of  his  na- 
ture for  the  realities  of  material  and  animal 
existence,  for  woman  there  is  no  excuse — 
for  woman,  whose  whole  life,  from  the  cradle 
to  the  grave,  is  one  of  feeling,  rather  than  of 
action ;  whose  highest  duty  is  so  often  to 
suffer,  and  be  still ;  whose  deepest  enjoy- 
ments are  all  relative  ;  who  has  nothing,  and 
is  nothing,  of  herself;  whose  experience,  if 
unparticipated,  is  a  total  blank ;  yet,  whose 
world  of  interest  is  wide  as  the  realm  of  hu- 
manity, boundless  as  the  ocean  of  life,  and 
enduring  as  eternity  !  For  woman,  who,  in 
her  inexhaustible  sympathies,  can  live  only 
in  the  existence  of  another,  and  whose  very 
smiles  and  tears  are  not  exclusively  her  own 
— for  woman  to  cast  away  the  love  of  poetry, 


*  The  Poetry  of  Life. 


44 


THE  DAUGHTERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


is  to  pervert  from  their  natural  course  the 
sweetest  and  loveliest  tendencies  of  a  truly 
feminine  mind,  to  destroy  the  brightest  charm 
•which  can  adorn  her  intellectual  character,  to 
blight  the  fairest  rose  in  her  wreath  of  youth- 
ful beauty. 

A  woman  without  poetry  is  like  a  land- 
scape without  sunshine.  We  see  every  ob- 
ject as  distinctly  as  when  the  sunshine  is 
upon  it;  but  the  beauty  of  the  whole  is 
wanting — the  atmospheric  tints,  the  harmony 
of  earth  and  sky,  we  look  for  in  vain ;  and 
we  feel  that  though  the  actual  substance  of 
hill  and  dale,  of  wood  and  water,  are  the 
same,  the  spirituality  of  the  scene  is  gone. 

A  woman  without  poetry  !  The  idea  is  a 
paradox ;  for  what  single  subject  has  ever 
been  found  so  fraught  with  poetical  associa- 
tions as  woman  herself!  "  Woman,  with 
her  beauty,  and  grace,  and  gentleness,  and 
fulness  of  feeling,  and  depth  of  affection,  and 
her  blushes  of  purity,  and  the  tones  and 
looks  which  only  a  mother's  heart  can  inspire." 

The  little  encouragement  which  poetry 
meets  with  in  the  present  day,  arises,  I  ima- 
gine, out  of  its  supposed  opposition  to  utility ; 
and  certainly,  if  to  eat  and  to  drink,  to  dress 
as  well  or  better  than  our  neighbors,  and  to 
amass  a  fortune  in  the  shortest  possible  space 
of  time,  be  the  highest  aim  of  our  existence, 
then  the  less  we  have  to  do  with  poetry  the 
better.  But  may  we  not  be  mistaken  in  the 
ideas  we  habitually  attach  to  the  word  util- 
ity ?  There  is  a  utility  of  material,  and  an- 
other of  immaterial  things.  There  is  a  utility 
in  calculating  our  bodily  wants,  and  our  re- 
sources, and  in  regulating  our  personal  ef- 
forts in  proportion  to  both ;  but  there  is  a 
higher  utility  in  sometimes  setting  the  mind 
free,  like  a  bird  that  has  been  caged,  to 
spread  its  wings,  and  soar  into  the  ethereal 
world.  There  is  a  higher  utility  in  some- 
times pausing  to  feel  the  power  which  is  in 
the  immortal  spirit  to  search  out  the  principle 
of  beauty,  whether  it  bursts  upon  us  with  the 
dawn  of  rosy  morning,  or  walks  at  gorgeous 
noon  across  the  hills  and  valleys,  or  lies,  at 
evening's  dewy  close,  enshrined  within  a 
folded  flower. 


It  is  good,  and  therefore  it  must  be  useful, 
to  see  and  to  feel  that  the  all-wise  Creator 
has  set  the  stamp  of  degradation  only  upon 
those  things  which  perish  in  the  using;  but 
that  all  those  which  enlarge  and  elevate  the 
soul,  all  which  afford  us  the  highest  and 
purest  enjoyment,  from  the  loftiest  range  of 
sublimity,  to  the  softest  emotions  of  tender- 
ness and  love,  are,  and  must  be,  immortal. 
Yes,  the  mountains  may  be  overthrown,  and 
the  heavens  themselves  may  melt  away, 
but  all  the  ideas  with  which  they  inspired 
us — their  vastness  and  their  grandeur,  will 
remain.  Every  flower  might  fade  from  the 
garden  of  earth,  but  would  beauty,  as  an  es- 
sence, therefore  cease  to  exist!  Even  love 
might  fail  us  here.  Alas !  how  often  does  it  fail 
us  at  our  utmost  need  !  But  the  principle  of 
love  is  the  same ;  and  there  is  no  human 
heart  so  callous  as  not  to  respond  to  the  lan- 
guage of  the  poet,  when  he  says — 
"  They  sin  who  tell  us  love  can  die 

Its  holy  flame  for  ever  burneth, 

From  heaven  it  came,  to  heaven  returneth ; 

Too  oft  on  earth  a  troubled  guest, 

At  times  deceived,  at  times  opprest, 

It  here  is  tried  and  purified,  . 

And  hath  in  heaven  its  perfect  rest; 

It  sowelh  here  with  toil  and  care, 

But  the  harvest-time  of  love  is  there." 

All  these  ideas  are  excited,  and  all  these 
impressions  are  made  upon  the  mind  through 
the  medium  of  poetry.  By  poetry,  I  do  not 
mean  that  vain  babbling  in  rhyme,  which 
finds  no  echo,  either  in  the  understanding  or 
the  heart.  By  poetry,  I  mean  that  ethereal 
fire,  which  touched  not  the  lips  only,  but  the 
soul  of  Milton,  when  he  sung  of 

"  Man's  first  disobedience," 
and  which  has  inspired  all  who  ever  walked 
the  same  enchanted  ground,  from  the  father 
of  poetry  himself,  down  to 

'•  The  simple  bard,  rough  at  the  rustic  plough." 

Thousands  have  felt  this  principle  of  poetry 
within  them,  who  yet  have  never  learned  to 
lisp  in  numbers ;  and  perhaps  they  are  the 
wisest  of  thoir  class,  for  they  have  thus  the 
full  enjoyment  which  poetic  feeling  affords, 


MUSIC,  PAINTING,  AND  POETRY. 


45 


without  the  disappointment  which  so  fre- 
quently attends  upon  the  efforts  of  those 
who  renture  to  commit  themselves  in  verse. 

Men  of  business,  whose  hearts  and  minds 
are  buried  in  their  bales  of  goods,  and  who 
know  no  relaxation  from  the  office  or  the 
counter,  except  what  the  daily  newspaper 
affords,  are  apt  to  conclude  that  poetry  does 
nothing  for  them ;  because  it  never  keeps 
their  accounts,  prepares  their  dinner,  nor 
takes  charge  of  their  domestic  affairs.  Now, 
though  I  should  be  the  last  person  to  recom- 
mend poetry  as  a  substitute  for  household 
economy,  or  to  put  even  the  brightest  ema- 
nations of  genius  in  the  place  of  domestic 
duty,  I  do  not  see  why  the  two  should  not 
exist  together ;  nor  am  I  quite  convinced 
that,  although  a  vast  proportion  of  mankind 
have  lost  their  relish  for  poetry,  it  would  not 
in  reality  be  better  for  them  to  be  convinced 
by  their  companions  of  the  gentler  sex,  that 
poetry,  so  far  from  being  incompatible  with 
social  or  domestic  comfort,  is  capable  of  being 
associated  with  every  rational  and  lawful  en- 
joyment. 

Yes,  it  is  better  for  every  one  to  have  their 
minds  elevated,  rathed  than  degraded — raised 
up  to  a  participation  in  thoughts  and  feelings 
in  which  angels  might  take  a  part,  rather  than 
chained  down  to  the  grovelling  cares  of  mere 
corporeal  existence ;  and  never  do  we  feel 
more  happy  than  when,  in  the  performance 
of  any  necessary  avocation,  we  look  beyond 
the  gross  material  on  which  we  are  employed 
to  those  relations  of  thought  and  feeling,  that 
connect  the  act  of  duty  which  occupies  our 
hands  with  some  being  we  love,  that  teach 
us  to  realize,  while  thus  engaged,  the  smile 
of  gratitude  which  is  to  constitute  our  reward, 
or  the  real  benefit  that  act  will  be  the  means 
of  conferring,  even  when  no  gratitude  is  there. 

What  man  of  cultivated  mind,  who  has 
ever  tried  the  experiment,  would  choose  to 
live  with  a  woman,  whose  whole  soul  was 
absorbed  in  the  strife,  the  tumult,  the  perpet- 
ual discord  which  constant  occupation  in  the 
midst  of  material  things  so  inevitably  pro- 
duces ;  rather  than  with  one  whose  attention, 
equally  alive  to  practical  duties,  had  a  world 


of  deeper  feeling  in  her  "  heart  of  hearts," 
with  which  no  selfish,  worldly,  or  vulgar 
thoughts  could  mingle  ? 

It  is  not  because  we  love  poetry,  that  we 
must  be  always  reading,  quoting,  or  compos- 
ing it.  Far  otherwise.  For  that  bad  taste, 
which  would  thus  abuse  and  misapply  so  sa- 
cred a  gift,  is  the  very  opposite  of  poetical. 
The  love  of  poetry,  or  in  other  words,  the 
experience  of  deep  poetic  feeling,  is  rather  a 
principle,  which,  while  it  inspires  the  love  of 
beauty  in  general,  forgets  not  the  beauty  of 
fitness  and  order ;  and  therefore  can  never 
sanction  that  which  is  grotesque  or  out  of 
place.  '  It  teaches  us,  that  nothing  which  of- 
fends the  feelings  of  others  can  be  estimable 
or  praiseworthy  in  ourselves ;  for  it  is  only 
in  reference  to  her  association  with  others, 
that  woman  can  be  in  herself  poetical.  She 
may  even  fill  a  book  with  poetry,  and  not  be 
poetical  in  her  own  character ;  because  she 
may  at  the  same  time  be  selfish,  vain,  and 
worldly-minded. 

To  have  the  mind  so  imbued  with  poetic 
feeling  that  it  shall  operate  as  a  charm  upon 
herself  and  others,  woman  must  be  lifted  out 
of  self,  she  must  see  in  every  thing  material  a 
relation^an  essence,  and  an  end,  beyond  its 
practical  utility.  She  must-  regard  the  little 
envyings,  bickerings,  and  disputes  about  com- 
mon things,  only  as  weeds  in  the  pleasant 
garden  of  life,  bearing  no  comparison  in  im- 
portance with  the  loveliness  of  its  flowers. 
She  must  forget  even  her  own  personal  at- 
tractions, in  her  deep  sense  of  the  beauty  of 
the  whole  created  universe,  and  she  musl 
lose  the  very  voice  of  flattery  to  herself,  in 
her  own  intense  admiration  of  what  is  excel- 
lent in  others. 

This  it  is  to  be  poetical ;  and  I  ask  again, 
whether  it  is  not  good,  in  these  practical  and 
busy  times,  that  the  Daughters  of  England 
should  make  a  fresh  effort  to  retain  that 
high-toned  spirituality  of  character,  which 
has  ever  been  the  proudest  distinction  of 
their  sex,  in  order  that  they  may  possess 
that  influence  over  the  minds  of  men,  which 
the  intellectual  and  the  refined  alone  are  ca- 
pable of  maintaining  1 


46 


THE  DAUGHTERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


Let  them  look  for  a  moment  at  the  condi- 
tion of  woman  wherever  this  high  tone  of 
character  has  been  wanting,  where  she  has 
been  identified  merely  with  material  things, 
and,  as  a  necessary  consequence,  regarded 
as  a  soulless  and  degraded  being,  essential  to 
society  only  in  her  ministration  to  the  general 
good  of  man.  But  we  close  the  scene  ere  it 
is  fully  unfolded.  The  Daughters  of  Eng- 
land must  feel  within  themselves  that  a  high- 
er and  a  nobler  destiny  is  theirs. 


CHAPTER  V. 

TASTE,   TACT,   AND   OBSERVATION. 

IN  the  cursory  survey  we  have  now  taken 
of  what  may  properly  be  called  the  intellect- 
lectual  groundwork  of  the  female  character, 
our  attention  has  been  directed  not  only  to 
those  scholastic  attainments  which  are  gen- 
erally comprehended  in  a  good  education, 
but  to  that  general  knowledge,  which  can 
only  be  acquired  by  after-study,  by  observa- 
tion, oy  reading,  and  by  association  with  good 
society. 

All  these,  however,  are  but  the  materials 
of  character,  materials  altogether  useless,  and 
sometimes  worse  than  useless,  without  the 
operation  of  a  master-power  to  select,  im- 
prove, and  turn  them  to  the  best  account 
With  men,  this  power  is  most  frequently  self- 
interest — with  women  it  is  that  bias  of  feel- 
ing towards  what  they"  are  most  inclined  to 
love,  which  is  generally  recognised  under  the 
name  of  taste ;  and  both  these  principles  be- 
gin to  exercise  their  influence  long  before  the 
mind  has  attained  any  high  degree  of  intel- 
lectual cultivation,  and  long  before  we  are 
aware  of  our  own  motives.  I  have  called 
this  principle  in  woman,  taste,  because  so 
far  as  it  is  biassed  by  the  affections,  taste  in- 
volves a  moral ;  and  it  is  a  peculiar  feature 
in  the  female  character,  that  few  things  are 
esteemed  which  do  not  recommend  them- 
selves in  some  way  or  other  to  the  affection?. 

Thus,  women  are  often  said  to  be  deficient 


in  judgment,  simply  from  this  reason,  that 
judgment  is  the  faculty  by  which  we  are  en- 
abled to  decide  what  is  intrinsically  best, 
while  taste  only  influences  us  so  far  as  to 
choose  what  is  most  agreeable  to  our  own 
feelings. 

It  is  no  uncommon  thing  among  young 
women,  to  hear  them  say,  they  like  a  thing 
they  do  not  know  why — nay,  so  warm  are 
their  expressions,  one  would  be  led  to  sup- 
pose their  preference  arose  from  absolute 
love,  and  yet, 

"  The  reason  why,  they  cannot  tell." 

It  is  that  habitual  tendency  of  feeling  or  tone 
of  mind,  which  I  have  called  taste,  that  de- 
cides their  choice;  and  it  is  thus  that  our 
moral  worth  or  dignity  depends  upon  the  ex- 
ercise of  good  taste,  in  the  selection  we  make 
of  the  intellectual  materials  we  work  with  in 
the  formation  of  character,  and  the  general 
arrangement  of  the  whole,  so  as  to  render  the 
trifling  subservient  to  the  more  important,, 
and  each  estimable  according  to  the  purpose 
for  which  it  is  used. 

I  am  aware  that  religious  principle  is  the 
only  certain  test  by  which  character  can'  be 
tried ;  but  I  am  speaking  of  things  as  they 
are,  not  as  they  ought  to  be ;  and  I  wish  to 
prove  the  great  importance  of  taste,  by  show- 
ing that  it  is  a  principle  busily  at  work  in  di- 
recting the  decisions  of  the  female  mind  on 
points  supposed  to  be  too  trifling  for  the  oper- 
ation of  religious  feeling,  and  often  before 
any  definite  idea  of  religion  has  been  formed. 
It  is  strictly  in  subservience  to  religion,  that  I 
would  speak  of  good  taste  as  being  of  ex- 
treme importance  to  woman ;  because  it 
serves  her  purpose  in  all  those  little  varia- 
tions of  human  life,  which  are  too  sudden  in 
their  occurrence,  and  too  minute  in  them- 
selves, for  the  operation  of  judgment;  but 
which  at  the  same  time  constitute  so  large  a 
sum  of  woman's  experience. 

It  may  be  said,  that  the  rules  of  good  taste 
are  so  arbitrary,  that  no  one  can  fully  under- 
stand them.  I  can  only  repeat,  *hat  I  have 
said  on  this  subject  in  "  The  Poetry  of  Life," 
and  I  think  the  rule  is  sufficient  for  women 


TASTE,  TACT,  AND  OBSERVATION. 


47 


in  general.  It  is,  that  the  majority  of  opinion 
among  those  who  are  best  able  to  judge,  may 
safely  be  considered  as  most  in  accordance 
with  good  taste.  Thus,  when  your  taste  has 
received  from  your  parents  a  particular  bias, 
which  you  are  afterwards  led  to  suspect  is 
not  a  correct  one,  inquire  with  all  respect, 
whether,  on  that  particular  subject,  your  pa- 
rents are  the  persons  best  qualified  to  judge. 
Or  when  you  find  in  society  that  any  thing  is 
universally  approved  or  condemned,  before 
accommodating  your  own  taste  to  this  exhi- 
bition of  popular  feeling,  ask  whether  the 
judges  who  pronounce  such  sentence  are 
competent  ones,  and  if  there  be  a  higher  tri- 
bunal at  which  the  question  can  be  tried— or 
in  other  words,  judges  who  understand  the 
subject  better,  let  it  be  referred  lo  them,  be- 
fore YOU  finally  make  up  your  mind. 

Perhaps  it  may  be  objected  that  this  is  a 
tedious  process,  and  that  taste  is  a  thing  of 
sudden  conclusion.  But  let  it  be  remem- 
bered, I  am  now  specking  of  the  formation 
of  a  good  taste,  as  a  part  of  the  character  ; 
not  of  the  operation  of  taste  where  it  has 
been  formed.  Nor,  indeed,  is  the  suddenness 
with  which  some  young  persons  decide  in 
matters  of  taste,  any  proof  of  their  good 
sense.  So  far  from  this,  we  often  find  them, 
under  the  influence  of  better  judges,  reduced 
to  the  mortifying  necessity  of  changing  their 
opinions  to  the  direct  opposite  of  what  they 
have  too  hastily  expressed. 

Still,  though  the  process  of  forming  the 
taste  upon  right  principles,  may  at  first  be 
slow ;  and  though  it  may  sometimes  appear 
too  tedious  for  juvenile  impetuosity,  the  ex- 
ercise of  good  taste  will  in  time  become  so 
easy,  arid  habitual,  as  to  operate  almost  like 
an  instinct ;  and,  until  it  is  so,  the  process  I 
have  recommended,  will  have  the  great  ad- 
vantage of  preventing  young  ladies  from  be- 
ing too  forward  in  expressing  their  senti- 
ments ;  and  what  is  of  far  greater  impor- 
tance, they  will  be  cautious  in  making  their 
selection  of  what  they  admire,  and  what 
they  condemn. 

Have  we  not  all  seen  in  society  the  ridicu- 
Vius  spectacle  of  a  young  and  forward  girl 


exhibiting  all  the  extravagance  of  juvenile 
importance  in  her  condemnation  of  a  book, 
which  has  not  happened  to  please  her  fancy ; 
when,  had  she  waited  a  few  minutes  longer, 
the  conversation  would  have  taken  such  a 
turn,  as  would  have  convinced  her  that 
among  wise  men,  and  enlightened  women, 
the  work  was  considered  justly  worthy  of 
high  commendation  ]  With  what  grace  could 
she,  then,  after  having  thus  committed  her- 
self, either  defend,  or  withdraw  her  own 
opinions]  or  with  what  complacency  could 
she  reflect  upon  the  exposure  she  had  made 
of  her  bad  taste,  before  persons  qualified  to 
judge  ?  Far  wiser  is  the  part,  perhaps,  of 
her  more  diffident  companion,  who  having 
equally  failed  in  discovering  the  merits  of  the 
work  in  question,  goes  home  and  reads  it 
again,  with  her  attention  more  directed  to  its 
beauties  ;  and  who,  even  if  she  fails  at  last 
in  deriving  that  pleasure  from  the  book  which 
she  had  hoped,  has  the  humility  to  conclude 
that  the  fault  is  in  her  own  taste,  which  she 
then  begins  to  regulate  upon  a  new  principle, 
and  with  a  determination  to  endeavor  to  ad- 
mire what  the  best  judges  pronounce  to  be 
really  excellent. 

We  must  not,  however,  attach  too  much 
importance  to  good  taste,  nor  require  it  to 
operate  beyond  its  legitimate  sphere.  Taste, 
unquestionably,  gives  a  bias  to  the  character, 
in  its  tendency  to  what  is  elevated  or  low, 
refined  or  vulgar ;  but  after  all,  the  part  of 
taste  is  only  that  of  a  witness  called  into  a 
court  of  justice,  to  test  the  value  of  an  arti- 
cle, which  has  some  relation  to  the  great  and 
momentous  decision  in  which  the  judge,  the 
jury,  and  the  court,  are  so  deeply  interested. 
As  taste  is  that  witness,  religion  is  that  judge ; 
and  it  is  only  as  the  one  is  kept  subservient 
to  the  other,  that  it  can  be  rendered  condu- 
cive to  our  happiness  or  our  good. 

The  province  of  taste,  then,  includes  all 
the  minute  affairs  of  woman's  life — which 
belongs  to  all  pleasurable  feeling,  held  in 
subordination  to  religious  principle — all  which 
belongs  to  dress,  manners,  and  social  habits, 
so  far  as  they  may  be  said  to  be  ladylike,  or 
otherwise.  Should  any  consideration,  rela- 


48 


THE  DAUGHTERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


ting  to  one  or  all  of  these  points,  be  allowed 
to  interfere  in  the  remotest  degree  with  the 
requirements  of  religion,  it  is  a  proof,  when- 
ever they  do  so,  that  the  standard  of  excel- 
lence is  a  wrong  one;  and  the  individual 
who  commits  so  fatal  an  errof,  would  do  well 
to  look  to  the  consequences,  and  remedy  the 
evil  before  it  shall  be  too  late.  Religion 
never  yet  was  injured  by  permitting  good 
taste  to  follow  in  her  train ;  but  that  lovely 
handmaid  can  deserve  the  name  of  taste  no 
longer,  if  she  attempts  to  step  before  religion, 
or  in  any  respect  to  assume  her  place. 

Above  every  other  feature  which  adorns 
the  female  character,  delicacy  stands  foremost 
whithin  the  province  of  good  taste.  Not 
that  delicacy  which  is  perpetually  in  quest  of 
something  to  be  ashamed  of,  which  makes  a 
merit  of  a  blush,  and  simpers  at  the  false 
construction  its  own  ingenuity  has  put  upon 
an  innocent  remark;  this  spurious  kind  of 
delicacy  is  as  far  removed  from  good  taste, 
as  from  good  feeling,  and  good  sense ;  but 
that  high-minded  delicacy  which  maintains 
its  pure  and  undeviating  walk  alike  among 
women,  as  in  the  society  of  men ;  which 
shrinks  from  no  necessary  duty,  and  can 
speak,  when  required,  with  seriousness  and 
kindness  of  things  at  which  it  would  be 
ashamed  indeed  to  smile  or  to  blush — that 
delicacy  which  knows  how  to  confer  a  benefit 
without  wounding  the  feelings  of  another, 
and  which  understands  also  how  and  when 
to  receive  one — that  delicacy  which  can  give 
alms  without  display,  and  advice  without  as- 
sumption ;  and  which  pains  not  the  most 
humble  or  susceptible  being  in  creation. 
This  is  the  delicacy  which  forms  so  impor- 
tant a  part  of  good  taste,  that  where  it  does 
not  exist  as  a  natural  instinct,  it  is  taught  as 
the  first  principle  of  good  manners,  and  con- 
sidered as  the  universal  passport  to  good  so- 
ciety. 

Nor  can  this,  the  greatest  charm  of  female 
character,  if  totally  neglected  in  youth,  ever 
be  acquired  in  after  life.  When  the  mind 
has  been  accustomed  to  what  is  vulgar,  or 
gross,  the  fine  edge  of  feeling  is  gone,  and 
nothing  can  restore  it.  It  is  comparatively 


ea.*y,  on  first  entering  upon  life,  to  maintain 
the  page  of  thought  unsullied,  by  closing  it 
against  every  improper  image ;  but  when 
once  such  images  are  allowed  to  mingle  with 
the  imagination,  so  as  to  be  constantly  reviv- 
ed by  memory,  and  thus  to  give  their  tone  to 
the  habitual  mode  of  thinking  and  conversing, 
the  beauty  of  the  female  character  may  in- 
deed be  said  to  be  gone,  and  its  glory  de- 
parted. 

But  we  will  no  longer  contemplate  so  un- 
lovely— so  unnatural  a  picture.  Woman, 
happily  for  her,  is  gifted  by  nature  with  a 
quickness  of  perception,  by  which  she  is  able 
to  detect  the  earliest  approach  of  any  thing 
which  might  tend  to  destroy  that  high-toned 
purity  of  character,  for  which,  even  in  the 
days  of  chivalry,  she  was  more  reverenced 
and  adored,  than  for  her  beauty  itself.  This 
quickness  of  perception  in  minute  and  deli- 
cate points,  with  the  power  which  woman 
also  possesses  of  acting  upon  it  instantaneous- 
ly, has,  in  familiar  phraseology,  obtained  the 
name  of  tact ;  and  when  this  natural  gift  is 
added  to  good  taste,  the  two  combined  are 
of  more  value  to  a  woman  in  the  social  and 
domestic  affairs  of  every-day  life,  than  the 
most  brilliant  intellectual  endowments  could 
be  without  them. 

When  a  woman  is  possessed  of  a  high 
degree  of  tact,  she  sees,  as  if  by  a  kind  of  sec- 
ond-sight, when  any  little  emergency  is  like- 
ly to  occur ;  or  when,  to  use  a  more  familiar 
expression,  tilings  do  not  seem  likely  to  go 
right  She  is  thus  aware  of  any  sudden  turn 
in  conversation,  and  prepared  for  what  it 
may  lead  to  ;  but,  above  all,  she  can  pene- 
trate into  the  state  of  mind  of  those  with  whom 
she  is  placed  in  contact,  so  as  to  detect  the 
gathering  gloom  upon  another's  brow,  before 
the  mental  storm  shall  have  reached  any  for- 
midable height;  to  know  when  the  tone  of 
voice  has  altered,  when  an  unwelcome 
thought  has  presented  itself,  and  when  the 
pulse  of  feeling  is  beating  higher  or  lower  in 
consequence  of  some  apparently  trifling  cir- 
cumstance which  has  just  transpired. 

In  these  and  innumerable  instances  of  a 
similar  nature,  the  woman  of  tact  not  only 


TASTE,  TACT,  AND  OBSERVATION. 


49 


perceives  the  variations  which  are  constantly 
taking  place  in  the  atmosphere  of  social  life, 
but  she  adapts  herself  to  them  with  a  facility 
which  the  law  of  love  enables  her  to  carry 
out,  so  as  to  spare  her  friends  the  pain  and 
annoyance  which  so  frequently  arise  out  of 
the  mere  mismanagement  of  familiar  and 
apparently  unimportant  affairs.  And  how 
often  do  these  seeming  trifles — 

"  The  lightly  uttered,  careless  word" — 

the  wrong  construction  put  upon  a  right 
meaning — the  accidental  betrayal  of  what 
there  would  have  been  no  duplicity  in  con- 
cealing— how  often  do  these  wound  us  more 
than  direct  unkindness  !  Even  the  young  feel 
this  sometimes  too  sensitively  for  their  own 
peace.  But  while  the  tears  they  weep  in 
private  attest  the  severity  of  their  sorrow,  let 
them  not,  like  the  misanthrope,  turntmck 
with  hatred  or  contempt  upon  the^rorld 
which  they  suppose  to  have  injured  them ; 
but  let  them  rather  learn  this' wholesome  les- 
son, by  their  own  experience,  so  to  meet  the 
peculiarities  of  those  with  whom  they  asso- 
ciate, as  to  soften  down  the  asperities  of  tem- 
per, to  heal  the  wounds  of  morbid  feeling, 
and  to  make  the  current  of  life  run  smoothly, 
so  far  as  they  have  power  to  cast  the  oil  of 
peace  upon  its  waters. 

Such  then  is  the  general  use  of  tact.  Par- 
ticular instances  of  its  operation  would  be  too 
minute,  and  too  familiar,  to  occupy,  with  pro- 
priety, the  pages  of  a  book ;  for,  like  many 
other  female  excellences,  it  is  more  valued, 
and  better  understood,  by  the  loss  a  character 
sustains  without  it,  than  by  any  definite  form 
it  assumes,  even  when  most  influential  upon 
the  conversation  and  conduct.  This  valu- 
able acquirement,  however,  can  never  be  at- 
tained without  the  cultivation  in  early  life  of 
habits  of  close  observation.  It  is  not  upon 
the  notes  of  a  piece  of  music  only,  not  upon 
a  pattern  of  fancy-work,  nor  even  upon  the 
pages  of  an  interesting  book,  that  the  atten- 
tion must  alone  be  brought  to  bear ;  but  upon 
things  in  general,  so  that  the  faculty  of  obser- 
vation shall  become  so  sharpened  by  constant 
use,  that  nothing  can  escape  it. 


Far  be  it  from  me  to  recommend  that  idle 
and  vulgar  curiosity,  which  peeps  about 
without  a  motive,  or,  worse  than  that,  with  a 
view  to  collect  materials  for  scandal.  Obser- 
vation is  a  faculty  which  may  be  kept  perpet- 
ually at  work,  without  intrusion  or  offence 
to  others ;  and  at  the  same  time,  with  infinite 
benefit  to  ourselves.  Every  object  in  crea- 
tion, every  sound,  every  sensation,  every  pro- 
duction either  of  nature  or  of  art,  supplies 
food  for  observation,  while  observation  in  its 
turn  supplies  food  for  thought.  I  have  been 
astonished  in  my  association  with  young 
ladies,  at  the  very  few  things  they  appear  to 
have  to  think  about.  Generally  speaking, 
they  might  be  all  talked  up  in  the  course  of 
a  week.  And  what  is  the  consequence?  It 
is  far  beyond  a  jest,  for  the  consequence  too 
frequently  is,  that  they  grow  weary  of  them- 
selves, then  weary  of  others,  and  lastly  wea- 
ry of  life — of  life,  that  precious  and  immortal 
gift,  which  they  share  with  angels,  and  which 
to  them,  as  to  the  angelic  host,  has  been 
bestowed  in  order  that  therewith  they  may 
glorify  the  gracious  Giver.. 

Now,  this  very  weariness,  which  at  the 
same  time  is  the  most  prevalent  disease,  and 
the  direst  calamity,  we  find  among  young 
women  ;  since  it  not  only  makes  them  use- 
less and  miserable,  but  drives  them  perpetual- 
ly into  excitement  as  a  momentary  relief — 
this  weariness  arises  out  of  various  causes 
with  which  young  people  are  not  sufficiently 
made  acquainted,  and  one  of  the  most  power- 
ful of  which  is,  a  neglect  of  the  habit  of  ob- 
servation. 

"I  have  seen  nobody,  and  heard  nothing 
to-day,"  is  the  vapid  remark  of  one  to  whom 
the  glorious  heavens,  and  the  fruitful  earth, 
might  as  well  be  so  much  paint  and  patch- 
work. "  What  an  uninteresting  person  !" 
exclaims  another,  who  has  never  looked  a 
second  time  at  some  fine  expressive  counte- 
nance, where  deep  feeling  tells  its  own  im- 
passioned story.  "I  wish  some  one  would 
come  and  invite  us  out  to  tea,"  says  a  third, 
whose  household  library  is  stored  with  books, 
and  whose  parents  have  within  themselves 
a  fund  of  intelligence,  which  they  would  be 


50 


THE  DAUGHTERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


but  too  happy  to  communicate,  could  they 
find  an  attentive  listener  in  their  child.  "  But 
my  life  is  so  monotonous,"  pleads  a  fourth, 
"  and  my  range  of  vision  so  limited,  that  I 
have  nothing  to  observe."  With  those  who 
live  exclusively  in  towns,  I  confess  this  ar- 
gument might  have  some  weight ;  and  for 
this  reason,  I  suppose  it  is,  that  town-bred 
young  women  are  often  more  ignorant  than 
those  who  spend  a  portion  of  their  early  life 
in  the  country — not  certainly  because  there 
is  really  less  to  be  observed  in  towns,  but  be- 
cause the  mind,  in  the  midst  of  a  multitude 
of  moving  images,  is  comparatively  unim- 
pressed by  any.  I  confess,  too,  there  is  some- 
thing in  the  noise  and  tumult  of  a  crowded 
city,  which  stupifies  the  mind,  and  blunts  its 
perception  of  individual  things,  until  the 
whole  shifting  pageant  assumes  the  charac- 
ter of  some  vast  panorama,  upon  which  we 
look,  only  with  regard  to  the  whole,  and  for- 
getful of  each  individual  part 

^It  is  true,  I  have  taken  my  accustomed 
walk  in  the  city,"  observes  a  fifth  young  wo- 
man, "  but  I  have  found  nothing  to  think 
about"  What !  was  there  nothing  to  think 
about  in  the  squalid  forms  of  want  and  misery 
which  met  you  at  every  turn  ? — nothing  in  the 
disappointed  look  of  the  patient  mendicant 
as  you  passed  him  by  1 — nothing  in  the  pale 
and  half-clad  mother,  seated  on  the  step  at 
the  rich  man's  door,  folding  her  infant  to  her 
bosom,  and  shrouding  it  with  the  "  wings  of 
care?" — was  there  nothing  in  all  that  was 
doing  among  those  busy  thousands,  for  sup- 
plying the  common  wants  of  man ;  the  droves 
of  weary  animals  goaded,  stupified,  or  mad- 
dened, none  of  which  would  ever  tread 
again  the  greensward  on  the  mountain's  side, 
or  slake  its  thirst  beside  the  woodland  brook  1 
— was  there  nothing  in  the  bold  and  beauti- 
ful charger,  the  bounding  steed,  or  the  sleek 
and  well-fed  carriage-horse,  contrasted  with 
the  galled  and  lacerated  victims  of  oppres- 
sion, waiting  for  their  round  of  agony  to 
come  again? — was  there  nothing  in  the  vast- 
ness  of  man's  resources,  the  variety  of  his 
inventions,  the  power  of  combined  effort,  as 
displayed  in  that  perpetual  succession  of  lux- 


uries both  for  the  body  and  the  mind  ? — was 
there  nothing  in  that  aspect  of  order  and  in- 
duptry,  so  important  to  individual,  as  well  as 
national  prosperity  ? — was  there  nothing,  in 
short,  in  that  mighty  mass  of  humanity,  or  in 
the  millions  of  pulses  beating  there,  with 
health  or  sickness,  weal  or  wo  7-— was  there 
nothing  in  all  this  to  think  about?  Why, 
one  of  our  late  poets  was  wont  to  weep  as  he 
walked  along  Fleet-street  and  the  Strand  ;  so 
intense  were  his  sympathies  with  that  mov- 
ing host  of  fellow-beings.  And  can  young 
and  sensitive  women  be  found  to  pass  over 
the  same  ground,  and  say  they  find  nothing 
to  think  about  ?  Still  less  could  we  expect 
to  meet  with  a  being  thus  impervious  in  the 
country  ;  for  there,  if  human  nature  pleases 
not,  she  may  find 


-books  in  the  running  brooks, 


S«Hions  in  stones,  and  good  in  every  thing." 

Whether  it  arises  from  an  intellectual,  or  a 
moral  defect,  that  this  happy  experience  is 
so  seldom  realized,  is  a  question  of  some  im- 
portance in  the  formation  of  character.  If 
young  ladies  really  do  not  wish  to  be  close 
observers,  the  evil  is  a  moral  one,  and  I  can- 
not but  suspect  that  much  truth  lies  here. 
They  wish,  undoubtedly,  to  enjoy  every 
amusement  which  can  be  derived  from  ob- 
servation, but  they  do  not  wish  to  observe  ; 
because  they  either  have  some  little  pet  sor- 
row which  they  prefer  brooding  over  to  them- 
selves, or  some  favorite  subject  of  gossip, 
which  they  prefer  talking  over  with  their 
friends,  or  they  think  it  more  ladylike  not  to 
notice  common  things,  or  more  interesting  to 
be  absorbed,  to  start  when  spoken  to,  and  to 
spend  the  greatest  portion  of  their  time  in  a 
state  of  revery. 

If  such  be  the  choice  of  any  fair  reader  of 
these  pages,  I  can  only  warn  her  that  the 
punishment  of  her  error  will  eventually  come 
upon  her,  and  that  as  surely  as  she  neglects 
in  youth  to  cultivate  the  expansive  and  pleas- 
ure-giving faculty  of  observation,  so  surely 
will  life  become  wearisome  to  her  in  old  age, 
if  not  before.  There  are,  however,  many 
whose  error  on  this  point  arises  solely  out  of 


TASTE,  TACT,  AND  OBSERVATION. 


51 


their  ignorance  of  the  innumerable  advan- 
tages to  be  derived  from  a  close  observation 
of  things  in  general.  Their  lives  are  void  of 
interest,  their  minds  run  to  waste,  they  are 
constantly  pining  for  excitement,  without 
being  conscious  of  any  definite  cause  for 
what  they  suffer.  They  see  their  more  en- 
ergetic  and  intelligent  companions  anima- 
ted, interested,  and  amused,  with  something 
which  they  are  consequently  most  anxious  to 
be  made  acquainted  with,  supposing  it  will 
afford  the  same  pleasure  to  them ;  when,  to 
their  astonishment,  they  find  it  only  some  ob- 
ject which  has  for  a  long  time  met  their  daily 
gaze,  without  ever  having  made  an  impres- 
sion upon  their  own  minds,  or  excited  a  single 
idea  in  connection  with  it.  To  such  individ- 
uals it  becomes  a  duty  to  point  out,  as  far  as 
we  are  able,  the  obstacles  which  stand  in  the 
way  of  their  deriving  that  instruction  and 
amusement  from  general  and  individual  ob- 
servation, which  would  fill  up  the  void  of 
their  existence,  and  render  them  at  the  same 
time  more  companionable  and  more  happy. 
There  is  a  word  in  our  language  of  most 
inexplicable  meaning,  which  by  universal  con- 
sent has  become  a  sort  of  test- word  among 
young  ladies,  and  by  which  they  try  the 
worth  of  every  thing,  as  regards  its  claim 
upon  their  attention.  I  mean  the  word  in- 
teresting. In  vain  have  I  endeavored  to  at- 
tach any  definite  sense  to  this  expression,  as 
generally  used  by  the  class  of  persons  ad- 
dressed in  this  work.  I  can  only  conjecture 
that  its  signification  is  synonymous  with  ex- 
citing, and  that  it  is  applicable  to  all  which 
awakens  sentiment,  or  produces  emotion. 
However  this  may  be,  the  fact  that  a  person 
or  thing  is  considered  among  young  ladies  as 
uninteresting,  stamps  it  with  irremediable 
obloquy,  so  that  it  is  never  more  to  be  spoken, 
or  even  thought  of;  while,  on  the  other 
hand,  whatever  is  pronounced  to  be  interest- 
ing, is  considered  worthy  of  their  utmost  at- 
tention, even  though  it  should  possess  no 
other  recommendation  ;  and  thus  not  only 
heroes  and  heroines,  but  books,  letters,  con- 
versation, speeches,  meetings  public  and  pri- 
vate, friends,  and  even  lovers,  are  tried  by 


this  universal  test,  and  if  they  fail  here,  wo 
betide  the  luckless  candidate  for  female  fa- 
vor! 

Of  those  who  have  hitherto  been  slaves  to 
this  all-potent  word,  I  would  now  ask  one 
simple  question — Is  it  not  possible  to  create 
their  own  world  of  interest  out  of  the  mate, 
rials  which  Providence  has  placed  before 
them  ?  or  must  they  by  necessity  follow  in 
the  train  of  those  who  languish  after  the  ex 
citement  of  fictitious  sorrow,  or  who  luxuri 
ate  in  the  false  sentiment  of  immoral  books, 
and  the  flattery  of  unprincipled  men,  simply 
because  they  find  them  interesting  ? 

Never  has  there  been  a  delusion  more  in- 
sidious, or  more  widely  spread,  than  that 
which  arises  out  of  the  arbitrary  use  of  this 
dangerous  and  deceitful  word,  as  it  obtains 
among  young  women.  Ask  one  of  them  why 
she  cannot  read  a  serious  book ;  she  answers, 
"  the  style  is  so  uninteresting."  Ask  another 
why  she  does  not  attend  a  public  meeting  for 
the  benefit  of  her  fellow-creatures  ;  she  an- 
swers that  "such  meetings  have  lost  their 
interest."  Ask  a  third  why  she  does  not 
make  a  friend  of  her  sister ;  she  tells  you 
that  her  sister  "  does  not  interest"  her.  And 
so  on,  through  the  whole  range  of  public  and 
private  duty,  for  there  is  no  call  so  impera- 
tive, and  no  claim  so  sacred,  as  to  escape 
being  submitted  to  this  test :  and  on  the  other 
hand,  no  sentiment  that  cannot  be  reconciled, 
no  task  that  cannot  be  undertaken,  and  no 
companionship  that  cannot  be  borne  with, 
under  the  recommendation  of  having  been 
introduced  in  an  interesting  manner. 

Of  all  the  obstacles  which  stand  in  the 
way  of  that  exercise  of  the  faculty  of  obser- 
vation, which  I  would  so  earnestly  recom- 
mend, I  believe  there  is  none  so  great  as  the 
importance  which  is  attached  to  the  wore 
"  interesting,"  among  young  women.  Upon 
whatever  interests  them,  they  are  sufficiently 
ready  to  employ  their  powers  of  observation 
but  with  regard  to  what  does  not,  they  pass 
through  the  pleasant  walks  of  daily  life,  as  i: 
surrounded  by  the  dreary  wastes  of  a  desert 
Of  want  of  memory,  too,  they  are  apt  to 
complain,  and  from  the  frequency  with  which 


THE  DAUGHTERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


this  grievance  is  spoken  of,  and  the  little  ef- 
fort that  is  made  against  it,  one  would  rather 
suppose  it  an  embellishment  to  the  character 
than  otherwise,  to  be  deficient  in  the  power 
of  recollecting.  It  is  a  fact,  however,  which 
personal  experience  has  not  been  able  to  con- 
trovert, that  whatever  we  really  observe,  we 
are  able  to  remember.  Ask  one  of  these  fair 
complainers,  for  instance,  who  laments  her 
inability  to  remember,  what  colored  dress  was 
worn  by  some  distinguished  belle,  for  what 
piece  of  music  she  herself  obtained  the  most 
applause,  or  what  subject  was  chosen  by 
some  beau-ideal  of  a  speaker,  and  it  is  more 
than  probable  her  memory  will  not  be  found 
at  fault,  because  these  are  the  things  upon 
which  she  has  employed  her  observation ; 
and,  had  the  subjects  themselves  been  of  a 
higher  order,  an  equal  effort  of  the  same  use- 
ful faculty,  would  have  impressed  them  in 
the  same  imperishable  characters  upon  her 
memory. 

After  considering  the  subject  in  this  point 
of  view,  how  important  does  it  appear  that 
w^  should  turn  our  attention  to  the  power 
which  exists  in  every  human  being,  and 
especially  during  the  season  of  youth,  of  cre- 
ating a  world  of  interest  for  themselves,  of 
deviating  so  far  from  the  tendency  of  popu- 
lar taste,  as  sometimes  to  leave  the  Corsairs 
of  Byron  to  the  isles  of  Greece,  and  the  Gyp- 
sies of  Scott  to  the  mountains  of  his  native 
land  ;  and  while  they  look  into  the  page  of 
actual  life,  they  will  find  that  around  them,  in 
their  daily  walks,  beneath  the  parental  roof, 
or  mixing  with  the  fireside  circle  by  the 
homely  hearth,  there  are  often  feelings  as 
deep,  and  hearts  as  warm,  and  experience 
as  richly  fraught  with  interest,  as  ever  glowed 
in  verse,  or  lived  in  story.  There  is  not, 
there  cannot  be  any  want  of  interest  in  the 
exercise  of  the  sympathies  of  our  nature 
upon  common  things,  when  no  novel  has 
ever  exhibited  scenes  of  deeper  emotion, 
than  observation  has  revealed  to  every  hu- 
man being,  whose  perceptions  have  been 
habitually  alive  to  the  claims  of  weak  and 
suffering  humanity ;  nor  has  fiction  ever  por- 
trayed such  profound  wretchedness  as  we 


may  daily  find  among  the  poor  and  the  de- 
praved ;  and  not  wretchedness  alone,  for 
what  language  of  mimic  feeling  has  ever 
been  found  to  equal  the  touching  pathos  of 
the  poor  and  simple-hearted  ?  Nay,  so  far 
does  imagination  fall  short  of  reality,  that  the 
highest  encomium  we  can  pass  upon  a  wri- 
ter of  fiction,  is,  that  his  expressions  are 
"  true  to  nature." 

This  is  what  we  may  find  every  day  in 
actual  life,  if  we  will  but  look  for  it — intensi- 
ty of  feeling  under  all  its  different  forms ; 
the  mother's  tender  love  ;  the  father's  high 
ambition ;  hope  in  its  early  bud,  its  first 
blight,  and  its  final  extinction ;  the  joy  of 
youth ;  the  helplessness  of  old  age ;  pa- 
tience under  suffering ;  disinterested  zeal ; 
strong  faith,  and  calm  resignation.  And 
shall  we  say  that  we  feel  no  interest  in  reali- 
ties of  which  the  novel  and  the  drama  are 
but  feeble  imitations  1  It  is  true  that  heroes 
and  heroines  do  not  strike  upon  their  hearts, 
or  fall  prostrate,  or  tear  their  hair  before  us, 
every  day ;  but  I  repeat  again,  that  the  touch- 
ing pathos  of  true  feeling,  which  all  may  be- 
come acquainted  with,  if  they  will  employ 
their  powers  of  observation  upon  human  life 
as  it  exists  around  us,  has  nothing  to  equal  it 
in  poetry  or  fiction.  If,  then,  we  would  turn 
our  attention  to  human  life  as  it  is,  and  em- 
ploy our  powers  of  observation  upon  cem- 
mon  things,  we  should  find  a  never-failing 
source  of  interest,  not  only  in  the  sympathies 
of  our  common  nature,  but  in  all  which  dis- 
plays the  wisdom  and  goodness  of  the  Cre- 
ator ;  for  this  ought  ever  to  be  our  highest 
and  ultimate  aim  in  the  exercise  of  every 
faculty  we  possess,  to  perceive  the  impress 
of  the  finger  of  God  upon  all  which  his  will 
has  designed,  or  his  hand  has  created. 

All  I  have  yet  said  on  this  subject,  how- 
ever, has  reference  only  to  the  benefit,  or  the 
enjoyment,  of  the  individual  who  employs 
the  faculty  of  observation.  The  law  of  love 
directs  us  to  a  happier  and  holier  exercise  of 
tliis  faculty.  No  one  can  be  truly  kind,  with- 
out having  accustomed  themselves  in  early 
life  to  habits  of  close  observation.  They 
may  be  kind  in  feeling,  but  never  in  effect ; 


TASTE,  TACT,  AND  OBSERVATION. 


53 


for  kindness  is  always  estimated,  not  by  the 
good  it  desires,  but  by  that  which  it  actually 
produces.  A  woman  who  is  a  close  observer, 
under  the  influence  of  the  law  of  love,  knows 
so  well  what  belongs  to  social  and  domestic 
comfort,  that  she  never  enters  a  room  occu- 
pied by  a  family  whose  happiness  she  has  at 
heart,  without  seeing  in  an  instant  every  tri- 
fle upon  which  that  comfort  depends.  If  the 
sun  is  excluded  when  it  would  be  more  cheer- 
ful to  let  it  shine  in — if  the  cloth  is  not  spread 
at  the  right  time  for  the  accustomed  meal — 
if  the  fire  is  low,  or  the  hearth  unswept — if 
the  chairs  are  not  standing  in  the  most  invi- 
ting places,  her  quick  eye  detects  in  an  instant 
what  is  wanting  to  complete  the  general  air 
of  comfort  and  order  which  it  is  woman's  bu- 
siness to  diffuse  over  her  whole  household  ; 
while,  on  the  other  hand,  if  her  attention  has 
never  been  directed  to  any  of  these  things,  she 
enters  the  room  without  looking  around  her, 
and  sits  down  to  her  own  occupations  with- 
out once  perceiving  that  the  servants  are  be- 
hindhand with  the  breakfast,  that  the  blinds 
are  still  down  on  a  dark  winter's  morning, 
that  a  window  is  still  open,  that  a  chair  is 
standing  with  its  back  to  the  fender,  that  the 
fire  is  smoking  for  want  of  better  arrange- 
ment, or  that  a  corner  of  the  hearth-rug  is 
turned  up. 

Now,  provided  all  other  things  are  equal, 
which  of  these  two  women  would  be  the 
most  agreeable  to  sit  down  with  !  The  an- 
swer is  clear  ;  yet,  nothing  need  be  wanting 
in  the  last,  but  the  habit  of  observation,  to 
render  her  a  more  inviting  companion.  It 
may  perhaps  be  surmised,  if  not  actually 
said,  of  the  other,  that  her  mind  must  be 
filled  with  trifle.s,  to  enable  her  habitually  to 
see  such  as  are  here  specified ;  but  it  is  a 
fact  confirmed  by  experience,  and  knowledge 
of  the  world,  that  a  quick  and  close  observa- 
tion of  little  things,  by  no  means  precludes 
observation  of  greater  ;  and  that  the  woman 
who  cannot  comfortably  sit  down  until  all 
these  trifling  matters  are  adjusted,  will  be 
more  likely  than  another,  whose  faculties 
have  not  been  thus  exercised,  to  perceive, 
by  an  instantaneous  glance  of  the  eye,  the 


peculiar  temper  of  her  husband's  mind,  as 
well  as  to  discover  the  characteristic  peculiar- 
ities  of  some  interesting  guest ;  while,  on  the 
other  hand,  the  woman  who  never  notices 
these  things,  will  be  more  likely  to  lose  the 
point  of  a  clever  remark,  and  to  fail  to  per 
ceive  the  most  interesting  features  in  the  so 
ciety  with  which  she  associates.  The  facul. 
ty  of  observation  is  the  same,  whatever  ob- 
ject it  may  be  engaged  upon  ;  and  that  which 
is  minute,  may  sharpen  its  powers,  and  stim- 
ulate its  exercise,  as  well  as  that  which  is 
more  important. 

With  regard  to  kindness,  it  is  impossible 
so  to  adapt  our  expressions  of  good- will,  as 
to  render  them  acceptable,  unless  we  minute- 
ly observe  the  characters,  feelings,  and  situa- 
tion of  those  around  us.  Inappropriate  kind- 
ness is  not  only  a  waste  of  good  things,  it  is 
sometimes  an  annoyance — nay,  even  an  of- 
fence to  the  sensitive  and  fastidious,  because 
it  proves  that  the  giver  of  the  present,  or  the 
actor  in  the  intended  benefit  has  been  more 
solicitous  to  display  his  own  generosity,  than 
to  promote  their  real  good  ;  or  he  might  have 
seen,  that,  with  their  habits,  tastes,  and  pecu- 
liarities, such  an  act  must  be  altogether  useless. 

A  woman  wanting  the  habit  of  observa- 
tion, though  influenced  by  the  kindest  feel- 
ings, will  be  guilty  of  a  vast  amount  of  in- 
consistencies, which,  summed  up  together  by 
those  whom  they  have  offended,  will,  in  time, 
obtain  for  her  the  reputation  of  being  any 
thing  but  kind  in  her  treatment  of  others. 
Such,  for  instance,  as  walking  away  at  a 
brisk  pace,  intent  upon  her  own  business, 
and  leaving  behind  some  delicate  and  nerv- 
ous invalid  to  endure  all  the  mortification  of 
neglect.  When  told  of  her  omission,  she 
may  hasten  back,  make  a  thousand  apolo- 
gies, and  feel  really  grieved  at  her  own  con- 
duct ;  but  she  will  not  easily  convince  the  in- 
valid that  it  would  not  have  shown  more  real 
kindness  to  have  observed  from  the  first  that 
she  was  left  behind.  No ;  there  is  no  way 
of  being  truly  kind,  without  cultivating  habits 
of  observation.  Nor  will  such  habits  come 
to  our  aid  in  after  life,  if  they  have  been 
neglected  in  youth.  Willingness  to  oblige,  is 


54 


THE  DAUGHTERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


not  all  that  is  wanted,  or  this  might  supply 
the  defect  Where  this  willingness  exists 
without  observation,  how  often  will  a  well- 
meaning  person  start  up  with  a  vague  con- 
sciousness of  some  omission,  look  about  with 
awkward  curiosity  to  see  what  is  wanted, 
blunder  upon  the  right  thing  at  the  wrong 
time,  and  then  sit  down  again,  after  having 
made  every  one  else  uncomfortable,  and  him- 
self ridiculous ! 

In  connection  with  the  habit  of  observa- 
tion, how  much  real  kindness  may  be  prac- 
tised, even  by  the  most  insignificant  mem- 
ber of  a  family  !  I  have  seen  a  little  child, 
far  too  diffident  to  speak  to  the  stranger- 
guest,  still  watch  his  plate  at  table  with  such 
assiduity,  that  no  wish  remained  ungratified, 
simply  from  having  just  what  the  child  per- 
ceived he  most  wanted,  placed  silently  beside 
him. 

From  this  humble  sphere  of  minute  obser- 
vation, men  are  generally  and  very  properly 
considered  as  excluded.  But  to  women  they 
look,  and  shall  they  look  in  vain,  for  the  fill- 
ing up  of  this  important  page  of  human  ex- 
perience ?  Each  particular  item  of  the  ac- 
count may  be  regarded  as  beneath  their 
notice ;  but  well  do  they  know,  and  deeply 
do  they  regret,  if  the  page  is  left  blank,  or  if 
the  sum-total  is  not  greatly  to  their  advan- 
tage. 

Observation  and  attention  are  so  much  the 
same  in  their  results,  that  I  shall  not  consider 
them  separately,  but  only  add  a  few  remarks 
on  the  subject  of  attention  as  it  applies  to 
reading. 

There  is  no  social  pleasure,  among  those 
it  has  been  my  lot  to  experience,  which  I 
esteem  more  highly  than  that  of  listening  to 
an  interesting  book  well  read ;  when  a  fire- 
side circle,  chiefly  composed  of  agreeable  and 
intelligent  women,  are  seated  at  their  work.  In 
the  same  way  as  the  lonely  traveller,  after  gain- 
ing some  lofty  eminence,  on  the  opening  of 
some  lovely  valley,  or  the  closing  of  some 
sunset  scene,  longs  to  see  the  joy  he  is  then 
feeling  reflected  in  the  face  of  the  being  he 
loves  best  on  earth ;  so,  a  great  portiori*of 
the  enjoyment  of  reading,  as  experienced  by 


a  social  disposition,  depends  upon  the  same 
impressions  being  made  upon  congenial  minds 
at  the  same  time.  I  have  spoken  of  an  in- 
teresting book,  well  read,  because  I  think  the 
art  of  reading  aloud  is  far  too  rarely  culti- 
vated ;  and  I  have  often  been  astonished  at 
the  deficiency  which  exists  on  this  point, 
after  what  is  called  a  finished  education. 

To  my  own  feelings,  the  easy  and  judi- 
cious reading  of  a  well-written  book,  on  a 
favorite  subject,  is  even  more  delightful  than 
music ;  because  it  supplies  the  mind  with 
ideas,  at  the  same  time  that  it  gratifies  the 
ear  and  the  taste.  Little  do  they  know  of 
this  pleasure,  who  pass  in  and  out  of  a  room 
unnecessarily,  or  who  whisper  about  their 
thimble  or  their  thread,  while  this  music  of 
the  mind  is  thrilling  the  souls  of  those  who 
understand  it ;  and  little  do  they  know  of 
social  enjoyment,  who  prefer  poring  over  the 
pages  of  a  book  alone,  rather  than  allowing 
others  to  share  their  pleasure  at  the  same 
time.  I  am  aware  that  many  books  may  be 
well  worth  reading  alone,  which  are  not  cal- 
culated for  general  reading  ;  and  I  am  aware 
also,  that  every  fireside  circle  is  not  capable 
of  appreciating  this  gratification  :  but  I  speak 
of  those  which  are ;  and  I  think  that  wo- 
man, as  a  peculiarly  social  being,  should  be 
careful  to  arrange  and  adjust  such  affairs,  as 
to  create  the  greatest  amount  of  social  pleas- 
ure. Of  this,  however,  hereafter. 

It  is  more  to  my  present  purpose,  to  speak 
of  those  habits  of  inattention  to  which  many 
young  persons  unscrupulously  yield,  when- 
ever a  book  is  read  aloud.  It  may  be  re- 
marked, as  a  certain  proof  of  their  want  of 
interest,  when  they  rise  to  leave  the  room, 
and  request  the  reader  not  to  wa"it  for  them ; 
for  though  politeness  may  require  some  con- 
cession on  their  part,  it  is  a  far  higher  com- 
pliment to  the  reader,  and  indeed  to  the 
company  in  general,  to  evince  an  interest  so 
great,  than  rather  than  lose  any  part  of 
the  book,  they  will  ask,  as  a  personal  favor, 
that  the  reading  of  it  may  be  suspended  until 
their  return,  provided  only  their  absence  is 
brief.  I  have  often  felt  with  sympathy  for 
the  reader  on  these  occasions,  the  disap- 


TASTE,  TACT,  AND  OBSERVATION. 


55 


pointment  he  must  experience  when  assured 
by  one  of  his  audience,  that  to  her  at  least 
his  efforts  to  give  pleasure,  and  excite  inter- 
est, have  been  in  vain. 

Beyond  this  there  is  a  habit  of  secret  inat- 
tention, of  musing  upon  other  things  when- 
ever a  book  is  read  aloud,  which  grows  upon 
the  young,  until  they  lose  the  power  to  com- 
mand their  attention,  even  when  they  would. 
This,  however,  I  imagine  to  arise  in  great 
measure  out  of  the  want  of  cultivating  the 
art  of  reading  ;  for  the  monotonous  tone  we 
so  frequently  hear,  the  misplaced  emphasis, 
and,  worse  than  all,  the  affectation  of  reading 
well,  when  the  reader  and  not  the  book  is 
too  evidently  intended  to  be  noticed,  are  of 
themselves  sufficient  to  repel  attention,  and 
to  excite  a  desire  to  do  any  thing  rather  than 
listen. 

Truly  has  it  been  said,  that  "  the  sport  of 
musing  is  the  waste  of  life,"  for  though  oc- 
casional seasons  of  mental  retirement  are 
profitable  to  all*  the  habit  of  endless  and 
aimless  revery,  which  some  young  persons 
indulge  in,  is  as  destructive  to  mental  energy, 
as  to  practical  usefulness !  Hour  after  hour 
glides  on  with  them  unmarked,  while  thought 
is  just  kept  alive  by  a  current  of  undefined 
images  flowing  through  the  mind. — And 
what  remains  1  "  A  weary,  stale,  flat,  and 
unprofitable"  existence  ;  as  burdensome  to 
themselves,  as  unproductive  of  good  to 
others. 

As  a  defence  against  the  encroachments  of 
this  insidious  enemy,  it  is  good  to  be  in  earn- 
est about  every  thing  we  do — earnest  in  our 
studies — earnest  in  our  familiar  occupations — 
earnest  in  our  attachments — but  above  all, 
earnest  in  our  duties.  There  is  a  listless, 
dreamy,  halfish  way  of  acting,  which  evades 
the  stigma  of  direct  indolence,  but  which 
never  really  accomplishes  one  laudable  pur- 
pose. Enthusiasm  is  the  direct  opposite  of 
this  ;  but  in  the  safe  medium  between  this 
extreme  and  enthusiasm,  is  that  earnestness 
which  I  would  recommend  to  all  young  per- 
sons as  a  habit  Enthusiasm,  to  the  mind  of 
youth,  is  vastly  more  taking  than  sober  earn- 
estness ;  yet,  when  we  look  to  the  end,  how 


often  do  we  find  that  the  one  is  discouraged 
by  difficulties,  and  finally  diverted  from  its 
object,  where  the  other  perseveres,  and  ulti- 
mately succeeds ! 

Habitual  earnestness  is  directly  opposed  to 
habitual  trifling ;  and  this  latter  may  truly 
be  said  to  be  the  bane  of  woman's  life.  To 
be  in  earnest  is  to  go  steadily  to  work  with 
whatever  we  undertake ;  counting  the  cost, 
and  weighing  the  difficulty,  and  still  enga- 
ging in  the  task,  assured  that  the  end  to  be 
attained  will  repay  us  for  every  effort  we 
make.  To  do  one  thing  and  think  about 
another,  to  begin  and  not  go  on,  to  change 
our  plan  so  often  as  to  defeat  our  purpose,  or 
to  act  without  having  formed  a  plan  at  all, 
this  it  is  to  trifle,  and  consequently  to  waste 
both  time  and  effort 

By  cultivating  habitual  earnestness  in 
youth,  we  acquire  the  power  of  bringing  all 
the  faculties  of  the  mind  to  bear  upon  any 
given  point,  whenever  we  have  a  purpose  to 
accomplish.  We  do  not  then  find,  at  the 
time  we  want  to  act,  that  attention  has  gone 
astray,  that  resolution  cannot  be  fixed,  that 
fancy  has  scattered  the  materials  with  which 
we  were  to  work,  that  taste  refuses  her  sanc- 
tion, that  inclination  rebels,  or  that  industry 
chooses  to  be  otherwise  engaged.  No  ;  such 
is  the  power  of  habit,  that,  when  accustomed 
from  early  youth  to  be  in  earnest  in  what- 
ever we  do,  no  sooner  does  an  opportunity 
for  making  any  laudable  effort  occur,  than  al' 
these  faculties  and  powers  are  ready  at  our 
call ;  and  with  their  combined  and  willing 
aid,  how  much  may  be  attained  either  for 
ourselves  or  others ! 

The  great  enemy  we  have  to  encounter, 
both  in  the  use  of  the  faculty  of  observation, 
and  in  the  cultivation  of  habits  of  earnest- 
ness, is  indolence ;  an  enemy  which  besets 
our  path  from  infancy  to  age,  which  stands 
in  the  way  of  all  our  best  endeavors,  anc 
even  when  a  good  resolution  has  been 
formed,  persuades  us  to  delay  the  execution 
of  it  Could  we  prevail  upon  the  young  to 
regard  this  enemy  as  it  really  is — a  greedy 
monster,  following  upon  their  steps,  and  ever 
grasping  out  of  their  possession,  their  time, 


56 


THE  DAUGHTERS  OP  ENGLAND. 


their  talents,  and  their  strength, — instead  of  a 
pleasant  fireside  companion,  to  be  dallied 
with  in  their  leisure  hours — what .  a  service 
would  be  done  to  the  whole  human  race  !  for, 
to  those  who  have  been  the  willing  slaves  of 
indolence  in  youth,  it  will  most  assuredly  be- 
come the  tyrant  of  old  age. 

The  season  of  youth,  then,  is  the  time  to 
oppose  this  enemy  with  success  ;  and  those 
who  have  quickened  their  powers  of  obser- 
vation by  constant  exercise,  and  applied 
themselves  with  habitual  earnestness  to  un- 
remitting efforts  of  attention  and  industry, 
will  be  in  no  danger  of  finding  life,  as  it  ad- 
vances, either  uninteresting  or  wearisome ; 
or  their  own  portion  of  experience  destitute 
of  utility  and  enjoyment 


CHAPTER  IV. 

BEAUTY,  HEALTH,  AND  TEMPER. 

THESE  are  personal  qualifications  univer- 
sally considered  to  be  of  great  importance  to 
the  female  sex ;  yet  is  there  something  sad 
in  the  contemplation-  of  the  first  of  these,  so 
great  is  the  disproportion  between  the  esti- 
mation in  which  it  is  regarded  by  young 
people  in  general,  and  its  real  value  in  the 
aggregate  of  human  happiness.  Indeed, 
when  we  think  of  its  frailty,  its  superficial 
character,  and  the  certainty  of  its  final  and 
utter  extinction — and  connect  these  consider- 
n;ions  with  the  incalculable  amount  of  am- 
bition, envy,  and  false  applause,  which  beauty 
has  excited — we  should  rather  be  inclined  to 
consider  it  a  bane  than  a  blessing  to  the  hu- 
man race. 

Female  beauty  has  ever  been  the  theme  of 
inspiration  with  poets,  and  with  heroes,  since 
the  world  began  ;  and  for  all  the  sins  and  the 
follies,  and  they  are  many,  for  which  beauty 
has  formed  the  excuse,  has  not  man  been  the 
abettor,  if  not  the  cause  ?  Of  his  habitual 
and  systematic  treachery  to  his  weak  sister 
on  this  one  point,  what  page,  what  book 
shall  contain  the  record  t  Would  that-  some 


pen  more  potent  than  ever  yet  was  wielded 
by  a  human  hand,  \vould  transcribe  the  dark 
history,  and  present  it  to  his  view  ;  for  hap- 
py, thrice  happy  will  be  that  era,  if  it  shall 
ever  come,  in  the  existence  of  woman,  when 
man  shall  be  true  to  her  real  interests,  and 
when  he  shall  esteem  it  his  highest  privilege 
to  protect  her — not  from  enchanted  castles, 
from  jealous  rivals,  or  from  personal  foes, 
but  from  the  more  insidious  and  fatal  ene- 
mies which  lurk  within  her  own  heart — from 
vanity,  from  envy,  and  from  love  of  admira- 
tion. 

To  prove  that  I  lay  no  unfounded  charge 
at  the  door  of  man  in  "this  respect,  let  us  look 
into  society  as  it  is.  The  beautiful  woman  ! 
What  court  is  paid  to  her  !  What  extrava- 
gances are  uttered  and  committed  by  those 
who  compose  her  circle  of  admirers !  She 
opens  her  lips  :  men  of  high  intellectual  pre- 
tensions are  proud  to  listen.  Some  trifling 
or  vapid  remark  is  all  she  utters.  They  ap- 
plaud, if  she  attempts  to  be  judicious  ;  they 
laugh,  if  she  aims  at  being  gay  ;  or  they 
evince  the  most  profound  reverence  for  her 
sentiments,  if  the  tone  of  her  expression  is 
grave.  Listen  to  the  flattery  they  offer  at  the 
shrine  of  this  idol  of  an  hour.  No  !  it  is  too 
gross,  too  absurd  for  repetition.  One  thing, 
however,  makes  it  serious.  Such  flattery  is 
frequently  at  the  expense  of  rivals,  and  even 
of  friends  ;  so  that,  while  these  admirers 
foster  vanity,  they  are  not  satisfied  without 
awaking  the  demon  of  envy  in  a  soul,  an 
immortal  soul,  which  it  ought  to  have  been 
their  generous  and  noble  aim  to  shield  from 
every  taint  of  evil,  and  especially  from  so 
foul  a  taint  as  that  of  envy. 

But  let  us  turn  to  another  scene  in  the 
drama  of  society.  The  very  same  men  are 
disclaiming  their  unsuccessful  efforts  to  ob- 
tain the  favor  of  this  beauty,  and  ridiculing 
the  emptiness  and  the  folly  of  the  remarks 
they  so  lately  applauded.  Time  passes  on. 
The  beauty  so  worshipped  begins  to  wane. 
Other  stars  shine  forth  in  the  hemisphere, 
and  younger  belles  assert  superior  claims  to 
admiration.  Who,  then,  remains  of  all  that 
prostrate  circle  ?  Not  one  !  They  are  all 


BEAUTY,  HEALTH,  AND  TEMPER. 


57 


gone  over  to  the  junior  claimant,  and  are 
laughing  with  her  at  the  disappointment  of 
the  faded  beauty. 

This  is  a  dark  and  melancholy  picture,  but 
for  its  truth  I  appeal  to  any  who  have  mixed 
much  in  general  society,  who  have  either 
been  beautiful  themselves,  or  the  confidants 
j  of  beauty,  or  who  have  been  accustomed  to 
hear  the  remarks  of  men  on  these  subjects, 
when  no  beauty  was  present  I  might  ap- 
peal also  to  the  fact,  that  personal  beauty 
among  women  alone,  receives  no  exaggera- 
ted or  undue  homage.  Were  there  no  men 
in  the  world,  female  beauty  would  be  valued 
as  a  charm,  but  by  no  means  as  one  of  the 
highest  order ;  and  happily  for  women,  an 
idea  prevails  among  them,  that  those  who 
want  this  charm,  have  the  deficiency  made 
up  to  them  in  talent,  or  in  some  other  way. 

Still,  there  is  so  natural  and  irresistible  a 
delight  in  gazing  upon  beauty,  that  I  never 
could  understand  the  philosophy  of  those 
moralists  who  would  endeavor  to  keep  from 
a  lovely  girl,  the  knowledge  that  she  was  so. 
Her  mirror  is  more  faithful,  and  unless  that 
be  destroyed,  the  danger  is,  that  she  will 
suspect  such  moral  managers  of  some  sinis- 
ter design  in  endeavoring  to  deceive  her  on 
this  point,  and  that,  in  consequence,  she  will 
be  put  upon  thinking  still  more  of  the  value 
of  a  gift,  with  the  possession  of  which  she  is 
not  to  be  trusted.  Far  wiser  is  the  part  of 
that  counsellor  of  youth,  who,  convinced  that 
much  of  the  danger  attendant  upon  beauty, 
as  a  personal  recommendation,  arises  out  of 
low  and  ignorant  views  of  the  value  of  beau- 
ty itself,  thus  endeavors  to  show  the  folly  of 
attaching  importance  to  that  which  the  touch 
of  disease  may  at  any  hour  destroy,  and 
which  time  must  inevitably  efface. 

The  more  the  mind  is  expanded  and  en- 
lightened, the  more  it  is  filled  with  a  sense  of 
what  is  admirable  in  the  creation  at  large ; 
and  the  more  it  is  impressed  with  the  true 
image  of  moral  beauty,  the  less  it  will  be  oc- 
cupied with  the  consideration  of  any  personal 
claim  to  flattery  or  applause.  There  will  al- 
ways be  a  circle  of  humble  candidates  for  fa- 
vor surrounding  the  unguarded  steps  of  youth, 


whose  influence  will  be  excited  on  the  side 
of  personal  beauty,  perhaps  more  than  in 
any  other  way.  Without  disrespect  to  the 
valuable  class  of  servants,  to  which  I  allude, 
for  I  am  convinced  they  know  not  what  they 
do,  I  must  express  my  fears,  that  they  are 
often  busily  at  work  upon  the  young  mind, 
long  before  the  age  of  womanhood,  instilling 
into  it  their  own  low  views  of  beauty  as  a 
personal  distinction ;  and  it  is  against  this  in- 
fluence, more  especially  as  it  begins  the  earli- 
est, that  I  would  call  up  all  the  power  of  mor- 
al and  intellectual  expansion,  in  order  to  fill 
the  mind  as  early  as  possible  with  elevated 
thoughts  of  the  creation  in  general,  and  of 
admiration  for  that  part  of  it  which  is  sepa- 
rate from  s<slf. 

A  being  thus  enlightened,  will  perceive  that 
admiration  is  one  of  the  higher  faculties  of 
our  nature  unknown  to  the  brute  creation, 
and  one,  the  lawful  exercise  of  which,  affords 
us  perhaps  more  enjoyment  than  any  other. 
Upon  the  right  employment  of  this  faculty 
depends  much  of  the  moral  tendency  of  hu- 
man character.  It  is,  therefore,  of  the  utmost 
importance  that  we  should  learn  in  early  life 
to  admire  only  what  is  truly  excellent ;  and 
as  there  is  an  excellence  of  beauty,  which  it 
is  consonant  with  the  higher  attributes  of  our 
nature  that  we  should  admire,  it  necessarily 
follows,  that  to  search  for  beauty  as  an  es- 
sence pervading  the  universe,  is  an  employ- 
ment not  unworthy  of  an  intelligent  and  im- 
mortal being. 

Let  us  then  examine,  so  far  as  we  are  able 
to  do  so,  "the  treasures  of  earth,  ocean,  and 
air  ;"  and  we  shall  see  that  it  has  pleased  the 
all-wise  Creator,  to  diffuse  the  principle  of 
beauty  over  every  region  of  the  world.  The 
deep  sea,  into  whose  mysterious  caves  no 
human  eye  can  penetrate,  is  full  of  it  The 
blue  ether,  and  the  sailing  clouds,  sun,  moon, 
and  stars,  are  they  not  beautiful]  and  the 
fruitful  garden  of  the  earth,  wherever  nature 
smiles  ? 

"  How  beautiful  is  all  this  visible  world !" 

Not  beautiful  in  its  brightness  and  eublimity 
alone,  but  beautiful  wherever  the  steps  of 


58 


THE  DAUGHTERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


Deity  have  trod — wherever  the  hand  of  the 
divine  artificer  has  been  employed,  from  the 
golden  glory  of  a  sunset  cloud,  to  the  gossa- 
mer thread  on  which  are  strung  the  pearls  of 
morning  dew. 

Now,  let  me  ask  whether  a  mind,  habitually 
engaged  in  the  contemplation  of  subjects  such 
as  these,  would  be  likely  to  be  diverted  from 
its  noble  but  natural  exercise,  by  vulgar  cal- 
culations upon  the  comparative  beauty  of  a 
face?  No.  It  would  be  perfectly  aware, 
where  such  beauty  did  exist ;  but  it  would 
also  be  impressed  with  the  important  fact, 
that  in  relation  to  the  wondrous  and  magnifi- 
cent whole,  its  own  share  of  beauty  consti- 
tuted so  small  a  part,  as  scarcely  to  be  worthy 
of  a  passing  thought. 

Those  who  are  accustomed  to  enlightened 
views  on  this  subject,  will  know  also  that 
there  are  different  kinds  of  personal  beauty, 
among  which,  that  of  form  and  coloring  holds 
a  very  inferior  rank.  There  is  a  beauty  of 
expression,  for  instance,  of  sweetness,  of  no- 
bility, of  intellectual  refinement,  of  feeling,  of 
animation,  of  meekness,  of  resignation,  and 
many  other  kinds  of  beauty,  which  may  all 
be  allied  to  the  plainest  features,  and  yet  may 
remain,  to  give  pleasure  long  after  the  bloom- 
ing cheek  has  faded,  and  silver  gray  has 
mingled  with  the  hair.  And  how  far  more 
powerful  in  their  influence  upon  others,  are 
some  of  these  kinds  of  beauty  !  for,  after  all, 
beauty  depends  more  upon  the  movements 
of  the  face,  than  upon  the  form  of  the  features, 
when  at  rest ;  and  thus,  a  countenance  habit- 
ually under  the  influence  of  amiable  feelings 
acquires  a  beauty  of  the  highest  order,  from 
the  frequency  with  which  such  feelings  are 
the  originating  cause  of  the  movements  or 
expressions  which  stamp  their  character 
upon  it 

Who  has  not  waited  for  the  first  opening 
of  the  lips  of  a  celebrated  belle,  to  see  whether 
her  claims  would  be  supported  by 

"  The  mind,  the  music  breathing  from  her  face ;" 

and  who  has  not  occasionally  turned  away 
repelled  by  the  utter  blank,  or  worse  than 
blank,  which  the  simple  movement  of  the 


mouth,  in  speaking,  or  smiling,  has  re- 
vealed? 

The  language  of  poetry  describes  the  loud 
laugh  as  indicative  of  the  vulgar  mind  ;  and 
certainly  there  are  expressions,  conveyed 
even  through  the  medium  of  a  smile,  which 
need  not  Lavater  to  inform  us  that  refine- 
ment of  feeling,  or  elevation  of  soul,  have 
little  to  do  with  the  fair  countenance  on  which 
they  are  impressed.  On  the  other  hand, 
there  are  plain  women  sometimes  met  with 
in  society,  every  movement  of  whose  features 
is  instinct  with  intelligence;  who,  from  the 
genuine  heart-warm' smiles  which  play  about 
the  mouth,  the  sweetly  modulated  voice,  and 
the  lighting  up  of  an  eye  that  looks  as  if  it 
could  "comprehend  the  universe,"  become 
perfectly  beautiful  to  those  who  understand 
them,  and  still  more  so  to  those  who  live  with 
them,  and  love  them.  Before  such  preten- 
si»ns  to  beauty  as  these,  how  soon  do  the 
pink  and  white  of  a  merely  pretty  face  vanish 
into  nothing ! 

Yet,  if  the  beauty  of  expression  should  be 
less  popular  among  women,  from  the  circum- 
stance of  its  being  less  admired  by  men  than 
that  of  mere  form  and  complexion,  they  do 
well  in  this,  as  in  every  other  disputed  ques- 
tion of  ultimate  good,  to  look  to  the  end.  Men 
have  been  found  whose  admiration  of  beauty 
was  so  great,  that  they  have  actually  married 
for  that  alone,  content,  for  its  sake,  to  dis- 
pense with  the  presence  of  mind.  And  what 
has  been  the  end  to  them,  or  rather  to  the 
luckless  beings  whose  misfortune  it  was  to 
be  the  objects  of  their  choice  ? — A  neglected 
and  degraded  lot,  embittered  by  the  fretful- 
ness  of  disappointment  on  the  part  of  their 
husbands  ;  while,  on  the  other  hand,  women, 
whose  attractions  have  been  of  a  more  intel- 
lectual nature,  have  maintained  their  hold  upon 
the  affections  of  their  companions,  through 
life,  even  to  the  unlovely  season  of  old  age. 

But,  in  addition  to  the  insufficiency  of 
mere  beauty,  there  is  another  cause  why 
men  are  so  frequently  disappointed  in  select- 
ing merely  pretty  wives.  They  have  a 
habit  of  supposing  that  if  a  woman  is  pretty, 
and  not  very  clever,  she  must  be  amiable. 


BEAUTY,  HEALTH,  AND  TEMPER. 


59 


Yet,  how  often  do  we  find  that  the  most 
wayward  temper,  the  most  capricious  will, 
and  beyond  all  calculation  the  most  provok- 
ing habits,  are  connected  with  a  weak  and 
unenlightened  mind.  And  added  to  all  this, 
there  is  the  false  position  the  young  beauty 
has  held  in  society,  the  flattery  to  which  she 
has  been  exposed,  the  dominion  she  has 
been  permitted  to  assert,  the  triumph  she  has 
been  accustomed  to  feel  over  others,  the 
strength  her  inclinations  from  constant  in- 
dulgence have  attained — all  these  have  to  be 
contended  with,  in  addition  to  the  incapacity 
of  her  imbecile  and  undisciplined  mind  ;  and 
surely  of  this  catalogue  of  evils,  any  one 
might  be  sufficient  to  counterbalance  the 
advantages  of  mere  personal  beauty  in  a 
companion  for  life — a  campanion  who  is  to 
tread  with  her  husband  the  rough  road  of 
experience,  and  whose  influence  upon  his 
character  and  feelings  will  not  end  on  this 
side  the  grave. 

Let  us,  however,  not  think  hardly  of  the 
feeble-minded  beauty,  simply  as  such.  She 
is  as  little  to  be  blamed  for  the  natural  imbe- 
cility of  her  mental  powers,  as  to  be  com- 
mended for  her  personal  charms.  Both  are 
to  her  the  appointments  of  a  wise  Provi- 
dence ;  but  as  both  combined  are  means  of 
exposing  her  to  evils  for  which  she  is  really 
to  be  pitied,  so  she  ought  to  be  kindly  pro- 
tected from  the  dangers  to  which  she  is  ex- 
posed ;  and  since  she  possesses  not  in  her- 
self sufficient  perception  to  know,  that  in 
consequence  of  her  beauty  she  is  made  to 
occupy  a  false  position  in  society,  from  which 
she  will  assuredly  have  to  descend,  it  be- 
comes the  duty  of  all  who  have  her  happi- 
ness at  heart,  to  warn  her,  that  in  her  inter- 
course with  the  world,  she  must  not  look  for 
a  sincere  and  disinterested  friend  in  man. 

I  am  far  from  asserting  that  there  are  not 
instances  of  noble  and  generous-hearted 
men,  who  know  how  to  be  the  friend  of  wo- 
man, and  the  protector  of  her  true  interests ; 
yet,  such  is  the  general  tone  of  social  inter- 
course, that  these  instances  are  lamentably 
rare. 

The  most  objectionable  part,  however,  of 


what  I  would  call  the  minor  morals  of  social 
life,  as  regards  the  subject  of  female  beauty, 
has  not  yet  been  alluded  to.  Man  is  sincere 
in  one  sense,  in  his  admiration  of  real  beauty 
while  it  lasts;  and  if  when  the  ruling  star 
begins  to  wane,  he  suns  himself  in  the  rays 
of  another  luminary,  he  is  still  faithful  to 
beauty  as  the  object  of  his  worship,  though 
the  supposed  divinity  may  be  invested  in  a 
different  shrine.  If,  then,  his  professions  of 
admiration  were  offered  only  to  the  really 
beautiful,  scarcely  one  woman  in  a  hundred 
would  be  injured  by  the  personal  flattery  of 
man.  But,  unfortunately,  that  large  propor- 
tion of  the  female  sex,  who  are  not  exactly 
pretty,  nor  altogether  plain,  are  exposed  to 
the  same  system  of  flattery,  for  charms  which 
they  really  do  not  possess.  I  have  often 
wondered  whether  there  ever  was  a  woman 
so  destitute  of  personal  attractions,  that  no 
man,  at  some  time  or  other  of  her  life,  had  ever 
told  her  she  was  beautiful ;  and  it  is  a  well- 
known  fact,  that  the  more  we  doubt  our  pos- 
session of  any  particular  attraction,  the  more 
agreeable  is  every  assurance  from  others 
that  such  attraction  does  exist. 

Thus  there  is  an  endless  train  of  mischief 
let  in  upon  the  minds  of  the  young  and  inex- 
perienced, by  what  men  are  accustomed  to 
regard  in  the  light  of  harmless  pleasantry,  or 
as  an  almost  necessary  embellishment  to 
polished  manners.  It  may  be  said  that  the 
plain  woman  has  her  glass,  to  which  she  can 
refer  for  never-failing  truth.  It  is  true,  she 
has ;  but  there  is  a  vast  difference  between 
looking  for  what  we  do  not  wish  to  see,  and  for 
what  we  do.  Besides  which,  when  a  young 
plain  woman  first  mixes  in  society,  she  sees 
the  high  distinction  which  mere  beauty  ob- 
tains for  its  possessor,  and  she  finds  herself 
comparatively  neglected  and  forgotten.  In 
her  home  she  is  doubtless  valued  in  propor- 
tion to  her  merits ;  but  in  company,  what 
avail  the  kind  and  generous  heart  which 
beats  within  her  bosom,  the  bright  intelligence 
of  her  mind,  the  cordial  response  she  would 
offer  in  return  for  kindness,  the  gratitude, 
the  generous  feeling  which  animate  her  soul? 
Who,  in  all  that  busy  circle,  cares  to  call  forth' 


60 


THE  DAUGHTERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


any  of  these  1  Nay,  so  little  do  all  or  any  of 
them  avail  her  in  society,  that  she  begins  in 
time  to  suspect  she  is  personally  repulsive  ; 
and  what  woman  of  sensitive  or  delicate 
feelings  ever  conceived  this  idea  of  herself, 
without  experiencing,  along  with  it,  a  strange 
sense  of  loneliness  and  destitution,  as  if  ex- 
cluded from  the  fellowship  of  social  kindness 
--shut  out  from  the  pale  of  the  lovely,  and  the 
beloved  ?  If,  then,  the  treacherous  voice  of 
man  but  whispers  in  her  ear,  that  these  hard 
thoughts  about  herself  have  no  foundation, 
who  can  wonder  if  she  is  found  too  ready  to 
"  lay  the  flattering  unction"  to  her  heart  ?  or 
who  can  wonder  if  the  equanimity  of  her 
mind  becomes  disturbed  by  a  recurrence  of 
those  painful  doubts,  occasionally  to  be  dis- 
pelled by  a  recurrence  of  that  flattery  too  ? 

To  young  women  thus  circumstanced,  I 
would  affectionately  say — Beware  !  Beware 
of  the  unquiet  thoughts,  the  disappointment, 
the  rivalry,  the  vain  competition,  the  fruitless 
decoration,  and  all  that  train  of  evils  which 
ensue  from  vacillating  between  the  two  ex- 
tremes of  flattering  hopes  and  mortified  am- 
bition. Go  home,  then,  and  consult  your 
mirrror ;  no  falsehood  will  be  there.  Go 
home,  and  find,  as  you  have  often  done  be- 
fore, that  even  without  beauty,  you  can  make 
the  fireside  circle  happy  there ;  nor  deem 
your  lot  a  hard  one.  From  many  dangers 
attendant  upon  beauty  you  are  safe,  from 
many  sorrows  you  are  exempt ;  above  all, 
should  you  become  a  wife,  from  that  which 
is,  perhaps,  the  greatest  calamity  in  woman's 
history,  the  loss  of  her  husband's  love,  be- 
cause the  charms  for  which  alone  he  valued 
her,  have  vanished.  This  never  can  be  your 
experience,  and  so  far  you  are  blest. 

If  personal  beauty  be  so  great  a  good  as 
men  persuade  us  it  is,  how  important  does  it 
become  to  know  that  there  is  no  certain  way 
of  preserving  this  treasure  but  by  a  strict 
regard  to  health  !  We  hear  of  the  beauty 
of  extreme  delicacy,  of  the  beauty  of  a  slight 
hectic,  and  sometimes  of  the  beauty  of  con- 
stitutional debility  and  languor,  but  who  ever 
ventured  to  speak  of  the  beauty  of  disease  1 
And  yet,  all  these,  if  not  treated  judiciously, 


or  checked  in  time,  will  infallibly  become 
disease.  On  the  other  hand,  we  hear  of  vul- 
gar health,  of  an  unlady-like  bloom,  and  of 
too  much  strength,  giving  an  air  of  indepen- 
dence unbecoming  to  the  female  character. 
Sincerely  wishing  that  all  who  hold  these 
sentiments  may  make  the  best  use  of  the  ad- 
vantages of  illness,  when  it  does  fall  to  their 
lot,  we  will  pass  on  to  consider  the  advan- 
tages of  health  as  one  of  the  greatest  of 
earthly  blessings. 

Perfect  health  was  the  portion  of  our  first 
parents  while  Paradise  was  yet  untrodden, 
save  by  the  steps  of  sinless  men  and  angels. 
Since  that  time,  it  has  become  rarely  the  ex- 
perience of  any  of  the  human  family  to  be 
altogether  exempt  from  disease  ;  yet,  so  much 
are  the  sufferings  of  illness  mitigated  by  the 
skill  of  modern  science,  and  the  comforts  of 
civilized  life,  that  a  slight  degree  of  bodily  in- 
disposition is  looked  upon  as  an  evil  scarcely 
worth  the  pains  which  any  systematic  means 
of  remedy  would  require. 

It  is  only  when  health  is  lost,  and  lost  be- 
yond the  hope  of  regaining  it,  that  we  be- 
come sensible  of  its  real  value.  It  is  then 
we  tax  the  ingenuity  of  the  physician,  and 
the  patience  of  the  nurse,  to  bring  us  back, 
if  only  so  near  as  to  stand  upon  the  verge  of 
that  region  of  happiness  from  which  we  are 
expelled.  It  is  then  we  see  the  folly  of  those 
who  play  upon  the  brink  of  the  precipice 
which  separates  this  beautiful  and  blessed 
region  from  the  troubled  waters  below.  It  is 
then  we  resign  our  wealth,  our  friends,  our 
country,  and  our  home,  in  the  hope  of  pur- 
chasing this  treasure.  It  is  then  we  feel  that, 
although,  when  in  the  possession  of  health, 
we  neglected  many  opportunities  of  kindness, 
benevolence,  and  general  usefulness,  yet 
when  deprived  of  this  blessing,  we  would 
kneel  at  the  footstool  of  mercy,  to  ask  those 
opportunities  again,  in  order  that  we  may 
use  them  better. 

In  early  youth,  however,  little  of  this 
knowledge  can  be  experimentally  acquired. 
Little  does  the  pampered  child  of  fond  and 
indulgent  parents  know  what  illness  is  to  the 
poor  and  the  destitute  ;  or  what  it  may  be  to  | 


BEAUTY,  HEALTH,  AND  TEMPER. 


61 


her  when  her  mother's  hand  is  cold  and  help- 
less in  the  tomb,  and  when  her  own  head  is 
no  longer  sheltered  by  a  father's  roo£  Thus 
we  find  young  girls  so  often  practising  a  cer- 
tain kind  of  recklessness,  and  contempt  of 
health, — nay,  even  encouraging,  I  will  not 
say  affecting,  a  degree  of  delicacy,  feebleness, 
and  liability  to  bodily  ailments,  which,  if  they 
were  not  accustomed  to  the  kindest  atten- 
tions, would  be  the  last  calamity  they  would 
wish  to  bring  upon  themselves.  How  im- 
portant is  it  for  such  individuals  to  remem- 
ber, that  the  constitution  of  the  body,  as  well 
as  that  of  the  mind,  is,  in  a  good  degree,  of 
their  own  forming  ;  that  the  season  of  youth 
is  the  time  when  the  seeds  of  disease  are 
most  generally  sown  „•  and  that  no  one  thus 
circumstanced,  can  suffer  a  loss  of  health 
without  inflicting  the  penalty  of  anxious  so- 
licitude, and,  frequently,  of  unremitting  per- 
sonal exertion,  upon  those  by  whom  she  is 
surrounded,  or  beloved ! 

Fanciful  and  ill-disciplined  young  women 
are  apt  to  think  it  gives  them  an  attractive 
air,  and  looks  like  an  absence  of  selfishness, 
to  be  jndifferent  about  the  preservation  of 
their  health  ;  and  thus  they  indulge  the  most 
absurd  capriciousness  with  respect  to  their 
diet,  sometimes  refusing  altogether  to  eat  at 
proper  times,  and  eating  most  improperly  ; 
at  others,  running  about  upon  wet  grass  with 
thin  shoes,  as  if  they  really  wished  to  take 
cold,  making  no  difference  between  their 
summer  and  their  winter  clothing,  or  casting 
off  a  warm  dress  for  an  evening  party  ;  re- 
fusing to  take  medicine  when  necessary,  or 
taking  it  unsanctioned  by  their  parents,  or 
their  best  advisers  ;  all  these  they  appear  to 
consider  as  most  engaging  features  in  the  fe- 
male character.  But  there  are  those  who 
could  tell  them  such  conduct  is,  in  reality,  the 
most  consummate  selfishness,  because  it  in- 
evitably produces  the  effect  of  making  them 
the  objects  of  much  necessary  attention,  and 
of  inflicting  an  endless  catalogue  of  troubles 
and  anxieties  upon  their  friends.  Ho\v  soon 
does  the  stern  discipline  of  life  inflict  its  own 
punishment  for  this  folly  !  but,  unfortunately, 
not  soon  enough,  in  all  instances,  to  stop  the 


progress  of  the  host  of  maladies  which  are 
thus  produced. 

Let  it  not  for  a  moment  be  supposed,  that 
I  would  recommend  to  young  women  over- 
solicitude  on  the  score  of  health ;  for  I  be- 
lieve nothing  is  more  likely  than  this  to  in- 
duce real  or  fancied  indisposition.  Neither 
would  I  presume  to  interfere  with  the  proper 
province  of  the  physician  ;  yet  am  I  strongly 
disposed  to  think,  that  if  the  rules  1  am 
about  to  lay  down  were  faithfully  adhered  to, 
that  worthy  and  important  personage  would 
much  less  frequently  be  found  beside  the 
couch  where  the  bloom  of  youthful  beauty 
wastes  away. 

My  first  rule  is,  to  let  one  hour  every  day, 
generally  two,  and  sometimes  three,  be  spent 
in  taking  exercise  in  the  open  air,  either  on 
horseback,  or  on  foot  Let  no  weather  pre- 
vent this  ;  for,  with  strong  bpots,  waterproof 
cloak,  and  umbrella,  there  are  few  situations 
where  an  hour's  walk,  at  some  time  or  other 
of  the  day,  may  not  be  accomplished  ;  and 
when, the  air  is  damp,  there  is  sometimes 
more  need  for  exercise,  than  when  it  is  dry. 
I  am  perfectly  aware  of  the  unpleasantness 
of  all  this,  unless  when  regarded  as  a  duty  ; 
I  am  aware,  too,  that  where  the  health  is 
good,  it  appears,  at  times,  a  work  of  superer- 
ogation ;  but  I  am  aware,  also,  of  the  differ- 
ence there  is  in  the  state  both  of  mind  and 
body,  between  sitting  in  the  house,  or  by  the 
fire  all  day,  and  taking,  during  some  part  of 
it,  a  brisk  and  healthy  walk. 

How  often  have  I  seen  a  restless,  weary, 
discontented  being,  moving  from  chair  to 
chair,  finding  comfort  in  none,  and  tired  of 
every  employment ;  with  contracted  and  un- 
easy brow,  complexion  dry  and  gray,  and 
eyes  that  looked  as  if  their  very  vision  was 
scorched  up  j — how  often  have  I  seen  such  a 
being  come  in  from  a  winter's  walk,  with  the 
countenance  of  a  perfect  Hebe,  with  the  en- 
ergy of  an  invigorated  mind  beaming  forth 
from  eyes  as  beautiful  as  clear,  and  with 
the  benevolence  of  a  young  warm  heart  re- 
flected in  the  dimpling  freshness  of  a  sunny 
smile !  How  pleasant  is  it  then  to  resume 
the  half-finished  work— how  refreshing  the 


THE  DAUGHTERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


social  meal — how  inviting  the  seat  beside  the 
glowing  hearth — how  frank  and  free  the  in- 
tercourse  with  those  who  form  the  circle 
there  !  And  if  such  be  the  effect  of  one  sin- 
gle walk,  how  beneficial  must  be  that  of  ha- 
bitual exercise,  upon  the  condition  both  of 
mind  and  body ! 

Were  it  possible  for  human  calculation  to 
sum  up  all  the  evils  resulting  from  want  of 
'exercise,  the  patalogue  would  be  too  appal- 
ling. All  those  disorders  which  in  common 
parlance,  and  for  want  of  a  more  definite  and 
scientific  name,  are  called  bilious,  (and,  truly, 
their  name  is  legion,)  are  mainly  to  be  attrib- 
uted to  this  cause.  All  headaches,  want 
of  appetite,  pains  under  the  shoulders,  side- 
ache,  cold  feet,  and  irregular  circulation,  pro- 
vided there  is  no  positive  disease,  might,  in 
time,  be  remedied  by  systematic  attention  to 
exercise.  Of  its  effect  upon  the  temper,  and 
the  general  tone  of  the  mind,  we  have  yet  to 
speak  ;  but  certain  I  am,  that  no  actual  ca- 
lamity inflicted  upon  woman,  ever  brought 
with  it  more  severe  or  extended  sufferings, 
than  those  which  result  from  the  habitual 
neglect  of  exercise. 

My  next  rule  is,  to  retire  early  to  rest 
Wherever  I  meet  with  a  pale,  melancholy 
young  woman,  highly  nervous,  easily  excited, 
unequal  in  her  temper  ;  in  the  early  part  of 
the  day  languid,  listless,  discontented,  and  fit 
for  nothing, — but  when  evening  comes  on, 
disposed  for  conversation,  brisk  and  lively  ; 
I  feel  morally  certain,  that  such  a  one  is  in 
the  habit  of  sitting  up  late — perhaps  of 
making  herself  extremely  interesting  to  her 
friends  beside  the  midnight  fire ;  but  I  know, 
also,  that  such  a  one  is  eminently  in  danger 
of  having  recourse  to  stimulants  to  keep  up 
the  activity  of  her  mind ;  and  that  during 
more  than  half  her  life — during  the  morning, 
that  most  valuable  portion  of  every  day — 
she  is  of  Kttle  value  to  society;  and  well  will  it 
be  for  her  friends  and  near  connections,  if  her 
listlessness  and  discontent  do  not  render  her 
companionship  worse  than  valueless  to  them. 
My  next  rule  is  to  eat  regularly,  so  far  as 
it  can  be  done  conveniently  to  others — at 
regular  times,  and  in  regular  quantities  ;  and 


this  I  believe  to  be  of  more  consequence  than 
to  be  very  particular  about  the  nature  of  the 
food  partaken  ofj  provided  only  it  is  simple 
and  nutritious.  I  know  that  with  a  sickly 
appetite,  or  where  the  constitution  is  under 
the  influence  of  disease,  it  is  impossible  to  do 
this ;  but  much  may  be  done  while  in  a  state 
of  health,  by  striving  against  that  capricious 
abstinence  from  food,  especially  in  the  early 
part  of  the  day,  which  by  certain  individuals 
is  thought  rather  lady-like  and  becoming.  I 
doubt  not  but  this  may  be  the  case,  so  far  as 
it  is  becoming  to  look  pale,  and  lady-like  to 
be  the  object  of  attention — to  be  pleaded  with 
by  kind  friends,  and  pitied  by  strangers  ;  but 
the  wisdom  and  the  utility  of  this  system  is 
what  I  am  not  the  less  disposed  to  call  in 
question. 

It  is  a  great  evil  in  society,  that  the  neces- 
sary act  of  eating  is  looked  upon  too  much 
as  a  luxury  and  an  indulgence.  If  we  re- 
garded it  more  as  a  simple  act,  the  frequent 
recurrence  of  which  was  rendered  necessary 
by  the  absolute  wants  of  the  body,  we  should 
be  more  disposed  to  consider  the  proper  reg- 
ulation of  this  act,  as  a  duty  within  our 
power  to  neglect  or  attend  to.  We  should 
consequently  think  little  of  each  particular 
portion  of  food  set  before  us,  and  the  busi- 
ness of  eating  would  then  be  despatched  as 
a  regular  habit,  attention  to  which  could 
afford  no  very  high  degree  of  excitement  or 
felicity,  while  at  the  same  time  it  could  not 
be  neglected  without  serious  injury. 

My  next  rule  is,  to  dress  according  to  the 
season  ;  a  rule  so  simple  and  so  obvious  in 
its  relation  to  health,  as  to  need  no  comment 

Thus  far  my  remarks  have  applied  only 
to  the  subject  of  health,  where  it  is  enjoyed. 
The  loss  of  health  is  a  theme  of  far  deeper 
interest,  as  it  separates  us  from  many  of  the 
enjoyments  of  this  world,  and  brings  us 
nearer  to  the  borders  of  the  world  which  is 
to  come. 

It  is  a  remarkable  feature  in  connection 
with  the  constitution  of  woman,  that  she  is 
capable  of  enduring,  with  patience  and  forti- 
tude, far  beyond  that  of  the  stronger  sex,  al- 
most every  degree  of  bodily  suffering.  It  is 


BEAUTY,  HEALTH,  AND  TEMPER. 


63 


true,  that  she  is  more  accustomed  to  such 
suffering  than  man ;  it  is  true  alsx>  that  a 
slight  degree  of  indisposition  makes  less  dif- 
ference in  her  amusements  and  occupations 
than  in  his.  Still  there  is  a  strength  and 
a  beauty  in  her  character,  when  laboring  un- 
der bodily  affliction,  of  which  the  heroism 
of  fiction  affords  but  a  feeble  imitation. 
Wherever  woman  is  the  most  flattered, 
courted,  and  indulged,  she  is  the  least  ad- 
mirable ;  but  in  seasons  of  trial  her  highest 
excellences  shine  forth  ;  and  how  encourag- 
ing is  the  reflection  to  the  occupant  of  a  sick- 
chamber,  that  while  the  busy  circles,  in  which 
she  was  wont  to  move,  close  up  her  vacant 
place,  and  pursue  their  cheerful  rounds  as 
gaily  as  when  she  was  there — that  while  ex- 
cluded from  participation  in  the  merry  laugh, 
the  social  meeting,  and  the  cordial  inter- 
course of  former  friends,  she  is  not  excluded 
from  more  intimate  communion  with  those 
who  still  remain  ;  that  she  can  still  exercise 
a  moral  and  religious  influence  over  them, 
and  deepen  the  impression  of  her  affectionate 
and  earnest  counsel,  by  exhibiting  the  Chris- 
tian graces  of  patience  under  suffering,  and 
resignation  to  the  will  of  God. 

Yes,  there  are  many  enjoyments  in  the 
chamber  of  sickness — enjoyments  derived 
from  the  absence  of  temptation,  from  proofs 
of  disinterested  affection,  and  from  the  un- 
speakable privilege  of  having  the  vanity  of 
earthly  things,  and  the  realities  of  the  eternal 
world,  brought  near,  and  kept  continually  in 
view.  How  are  we  then  made  acquainted 
with  the  hollowness  of  mere  profession ! 
How  much  that  appeared  to  us  plausible 
and  attractive  when  we  mingled  in  society, 
is  now  stripped  of  its  false  coloring,  and 
rendered  repulsive  and  odious !  while,  on 
the  other  hand,  how  much  that  was  lightly 
esteemed  by  the  world  in  which  we  moved, 
is  discovered  to  be  worthy  of  our  admi- 
ration and  esteem !  How  much  of  human 
love,  where  we  most  calculated  upon  finding 
it,  has  escaped  from  our  hold !  but  then, 
how  much  is  left  to  succor  and  console  us, 
from  those  upon  whose  kindness  we  feel  to 
have  but  little  claim  ! 


Experience  is  often  said  to  be  the  only 
true  teacher  ;  but  illness  often  crowds  an  age 
of  experience  into  the  compass  of  a  few  sh^rt 
days.  Often  while  engaged  in  the  active 
avocations  of  life,  involved  in  its  contending 
interests,  and  led  captive  by  its  allurements, 
we  wish  in  vain  that  a  just  balance  could  be 
maintained  between  the  value  of  the  things 
of  time  and  of  eternity.  It  is  the  greatest 
privilege  of  illness,  that,  if  rightly  regarded, 
it  adjusts  this  balance,  and  keeps  it  true. 
From  the  bed  of  sichfess,  we  look  back  upon 
the  business,  which,  a  short  time  ago,  ab- 
sorbed our  very  being.  What  is  it  then? 
A  mere  struggle  for  the  food  and  clothing  of 
a  body  about  to  mingle  with  the  dust  We 
look  back  at  the  pleasures  we  have  left. 
What  are  they  7  The  sport  of  truant  chil- 
dren, when  they  should  have  been  learning 
to  be  wise  and  good.  We  look  back  upon 
the  objects  which  engaged  our  affections. 
How  is  it]  Have  the  stars  all  vanished 
from,  our  heaven?  Have  the  flowers  all 
faded  from  our  earth  ?  How  can  it  be  ? 
Alas  !  our  affections  have  been  misplaced. 
We  have  not  loved  supremely  only  what 
was  lovely  in  the  sight  of  God  :  and  merci- 
ful, most  merciful  is  the  warning  voice,  not 
yet  too  late,  to  tell  us  that  He  who  formed 
the  human  heart,  has  an  unquestionable 
right  to  claim  his  own. 

I  am  not  one  of  those  who  would  speak  of 
religion  as  especially  calculated  for  the  cham- 
ber of  sickness,  and  the  bed  of  death ;  be- 
cause I  believe  it  is  equally  important  to 
choose  religion  as  our  portion  in  illness,  as 
in  health — in  the  bloom  of  youth,  as  on  the 
border  of  the  grave.  I  believe  also,  that  in 
reality,  that  being  is  in  as  awful  a  condition, 
who  lives  on  from  day  to  day  in  the  possess- 
ion of  all  temporal  blessings,  without  religion, 
as  he  who  pines  upon  a  bed  of  suffering, 
without  it  But  if  the  necessity  of  religion 
be  the  same,  its  consolations  are  far  more 
powerfully  felt,  when  deprived  by  sickness  of 
every  other  stay  ;  and  often  do  the  darkened 
chamber,  and  the  weary  couch,  display  such 
evidence  of  the  power  and  the  condescen- 
sion of  Divine  love,  that  even  the  stranger 


64 


THE  DAUGHTERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


acknowledges  it  is  better  to  go  the  house  of 
mourning  than  of  feasting. 

It  is  when  the  feeble  step  has  trod  for  the 
last  time  upon  nature's  verdant  carpet,  when 
the  dim  eye  has  looked  its  last  upon  the 
green  earth  and  sunny  sky,  when  the  weary 
body  has  almost  ached  and  pined  its  last, 
when  human  skill  can  do  no  more,  and  kind- 
ness has  offered  its  last  relief— it  is  then,  that 
we  see  the  perfect  adaptation  of  the  promises 
of  the  gospel  to  feeble  nature's  utmost  need  ; 
and  while  we  contemplate  the  depths  of  the 
Redeemer's  love,  and  hear  in  anticipation  the 
welcome  of  angels  to  the  pardoned  sinner, 
and  see  upon  his  faded  lips  the  smile  of  ever- 
lasting peace,  we  look  from  that  solemn 
scene  once  more  into  the  world,  and  wonder 
at  the  madness  and  the  folly  of  its  infatuated 
slaves. 

All  these  are  privileges,  if  only  to  feel  them 
as  a  mere  spectator ;  and  never  ought  such 
scenes  to  be  avoided  on  account  of  the  pain- 
ful sympathy  which  the  sight  of  human  suf- 
fering naturally  occasions.  Young  people 
are  apt  to  think  it  is  not  their  business  to 
wait  upon  the  sick,  that  their  seniors  are  bet- 
ter fitted  for  such  service,  that  they  shall 
make  some  serious  mistake,  or  create  some 
inconvenience  by  their  want  of  knowledge  ; 
or  at  all  events,  they  hold  themselves  ex- 
cused. Yet  is  there  many  a  sweet  young 
girl,  who,  in  consequence  of  family  affliction, 
becomes  initiated  in  these  deep  mysteries  of 
Christian  charity,  before  he%  willing  step  has 
lost  the  playful  elasticity  of  childhood  ;  and 
never  did  th'e  maturer  virtues  of  the  female 
character  appear  less  lovely  from  such  pre- 
cocious exercise.  I  should  rather  say,  there 
was  a  tenderness  of  feeling,  and  a  power  of 
sympathy  derived  from  early  acquaintance 
with  human  suffering,  which  remains  with 
woman  till  the  end  of  life,  and  constitutes 
alike  the  charm  of  youth  and  the  attraction 
of  old  age. 

I  have  dwelt  long  upon  the  privileges  of 
illness,  both  to  the  sufferer  and  her  friends, 
because  I  believe  that  all  which  is  noble,  and 
sweet,  and  patient,  and  disinterested  in  wo- 
man's nature,  is  often  thus  called  forth ;  as 


well  as  all  that  is  most  encouraging  in  the 
exemplification  of  the  Christian  character. 
But  I  rriust  again  advert  to 

41  Woman  in  our  hours  of  ease  ;" 

and  here  I  am  sorry  to  say,  we  sometimes 
find  a  fretfulness  and  petulance  under  the  in- 
fliction of  slight  bodily  ailments,  which  are  as 
much  at  variance  with  the  moral  dignity  of 
woman,  as  opposed  to  her  religious  influence. 
The  root  of  the  evil,  however,  lies  not  so  oft- 
en in  her  impatience,  as  in  a  deeper  secret 
of  her  nature.  It  lies  most  frequently  in  what 
I  am  compelled  to  acknowledge  as  the  beset- 
ting sin  of  woman — her  desire  to  be  an  ob- 
ject of  attention.  From  this  desire,  how 
many  little  coughs,  slight  headaches,  sud- 
den pains,  attacks  of  faintness,  and  symp- 
toms of  feebleness  are  complained  of,  which, 
if  alone,  or  in  the  company  of  those  whose 
attentions  are  not  agreeable,  would  scarcely 
occupy  a  thought.  Yet  it  is  astonishing  how 
such  habits  gain  ground,  and  remain  with 
those  who  have  indulged  them  in  youth, 
long  after  such  complaints  have  ceased  to 
call  forth  a  single  kind  attention,  or  to  en- 
gage a  single  patient  ear. 

Youth  is  the  only  time  to  prevent  this  habit 
fixing  itself  upon  the  character ;  and  it  might 
be  a  wholesome  truth  for  all  '.vomen  to  bear 
in  mind,  that  although  politeness  may  some- 
times compel  their  friends  to  appear  to  listen, 
nothing  is  really  so  wearisome  to  others,  as  fre- 
quent and  detailed  accounts  of  our  own  little  ail- 
ments. It  is  good,  therefore,  whenever  temp- 
tations arise  to  make  these  trifling  grievances 
the  subject  of  complaint,  to  think  of  the  poor, 
and  the  really  afflicted.  It  is  good  to  visit 
them  also,  so  far  as  it  may  be  suitable  in 
their  seasons  of  trial,  in  order  that  we  may 
go  home,  ashamed  before  our  families,  and 
ashamed  in  the  sight  of  God,  that  our  com- 
paratively slight  trials  should  excite  a  single 
murmuring  thought 

Besides,  if  there  were  no  other  check  upon 
these  habitual  complainers,  surely  the  cheer- 
fulness of  home  might  have  some  effect ;  for 
who  can  be  happy  seated  beside  a  compan- 
ion who  is  always  in  "excruciating  pain,"  or 


BEAUTY,  HEALTH,  AND  TEMPER. 


65 


who  fancies  herself  so  1  There  are,  besides, 
many  alleviations  to  temporary  suffering, 
which  it  is  not  only  lawful,  but  expedient 
to  adopt.  •  Many  interesting  books  may  be 
read,  many  pleasant  kinds  of  work  may  be 
done,  during  a  season  of  slight  indisposition  ; 
while  on  the  other  hand,  every  little  pain  is 
made  worse  by  dwelling  upon  it,  and  especial- 
ly by  doing  nothing  else. 

The  next  consideration  which  occurs  in 
connection  with  these  views  of  health,  is  that 
of  temper  ;  and  few  young  persons,  I  believe, 
are  aware  how  much  the  one  is  dependent 
upon  the  other.  Want  of  exercise,  indiges- 
tion, and  many  other  causes  originating  in 
the  state  of  the  bod)",  have  a  powerful  effect 
in  destroying  the  sweetness  of  the  temper ; 
while  habitual  exercise,  regular  diet,  and  oc- 
casional change  of  air,  are  among  the  most 
certain  means  of  restoring  the  temper  from 
any  temporary  derangement 

Still,  there  are  constitutional  tendencies  of 
mind,  as  well  as  body,  which  seriously  affect 
the  temper,  and  which  remain  with  us  to  the 
end  of  life,  as  our  blessing  or  our  bane ;  just 
in  proportion  as  they  are  overruled  by  our 
own  watchfulness  and  care,  operating  in 
connection  with  the  work  of  religion  in  the 
heart. 

It  would  require  volumes,  rather  than 
pages,  to  give  any  distinct  analysis  of  tem- 
per, so  various  are  the  characteristics  it  as- 
sumes, so  vast  its  influence  upon  social  and 
domestic  happiness.  We  will,  therefore,  in 
the  present  instance,  confine  our  attention  to 
a  few  important  facts,  in  connection  with  this 
subject,  which  it  is  of  the  utmost  consequence 
that  the  young  should  bear  in  mind. 

In  the  first  place,  ill-temper  should  always 
be  regarded  as  a  disease,  both  in  ourselves 
and  others ;  and  as  such,  instead  of  either 
irritating  or  increasing  it,  we  should  rather 
endeavor  to  subdue  the  symptoms  of  the 
disease  by  the  most  careful  and  unremitting 
efforts.  A  bad  temper,  although  the  most 
pitiable  of  all  infirmities,  from  the  misery  it 
entails  upon  its  possessor,  is  almost  invaria- 
bly opposed  by  harshness,  severity,  or  con- 
tempt.  It  is  true,  that  all  symptoms  of  dis- 


ease exhibited  by  a  bad  temper,  have  a  strong 
tendency  to  call  forth  the  same  in  ourselves ; 
but  this  arises  in  great  measure  from  not 
looking  at  the  case  as  it  really  is.  If  a  friend 
or  a  relative,  for  instance,  is  afflicted  with  the 
gout,  how  carefully  do  we  walk  past  his  foot- 
stool, how  tenderly  do  we  remove  every  thing 
which  can  increase  his  pain,  how  softly  do 
we  touch  the  affected  part !  And  why  should 
we  not  exercise  the  same  kind  feeling  towards 
a  brother  or  a  sister  afflicted  with  a  bad  tem- 
per, which  of  all  human  maladies  is  unques- 
tionably the  greatest  1 

I  know  it  is  difficult — nay,  almost  impossi- 
ble, to  practise  this  forbearance  towards  a 
bad  temper,  when  not  allied  to  a  generous 
heart — when  no  atonement  is  afterwards  of- 
fered for  the  pain  which  has  been  given,  and 
when  no  evidence  exists  of  the  offender  be- 
ing so  much  as  conscious  of  deserving  blame. 
But  when  concession  is  made,  when  tears  of 
penitence  are  wept,  and  when,  in  moments 
of  returning  confidence,  that  luckless  tenden- 
cy of  temper  is  candidly  confessed,  and  sin- 
cerely bewailed ;  when  all  the  different  acts 
committed  under  its  influence,  are  acknow- 
ledged to  have  been  wrong,  how  complete 
ought  to  be  the  reconciliation  thus  begun,  and 
how  zealous  our  endeavors  for  the  future  to 
avert  the  consequences  of  this  sad  calamity  ! 
Indeed,  if  those  who  are  not  equally  tempted 
to  the  sins  of  temper,  and  who  think  and 
speak  harshly  of  us  for  such  transgressions, 
could  know  the  agony  they  entail  upon  those 
who  commit  them — the  yearning  of  an  affec- 
tionate heart  towards  a  friend  thus  estranged 
— the  humiliation  of  a  proud  spirit  after  hav- 
ing thus  exposed  its  weakness — the  bitter  re- 
flection, that  not  one  of  all  those  burning  words 
we  uttered  can  ever  be  recalled — that  they 
have  eaten  like  a  canker  into  some  old  at- 
tachment, and  stamped  with  ingratitude  the 
aching  brotf,  whose  fever  is  already  almost 
more  than  it  can  bear  ; — oh !  could  our  calm- 
tempered  friends  become  acquainted  with  all 
this — with  the  tears  and  the  prayers  to  which 
the  overburdened  soul  gives  vent,  when  no 
eye  seeth  its  affliction,  surely  they  would  pity 
our  infirmity  ;  and  not  only  pity,  but  assist 


THE  DAUGHTERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


These,  however,  are  among  the  deep  things 
of  human  experience,  never  to  be  clearly  re- 
vealed, or  fully  understood,  until  that  day 
when  the  secrets  of  all  hearts  shall  be  laid 
open.  It  is  perhaps  more  to  our  present  pur- 
pose, to  consider  what  is  the  effect  upon  oth- 
ers, of  encouraging  wrong  tempers  in  our- 
selves. Young  people  are  apt  to  think  what 
they  do,  of  little  importance,  because  they 
are  perhaps  the  youngest  in, the  family,  or  at 
least  too  young  to  have  any  influence.  They 
should  remember  that  no  one  is  too  young  to 
be  disagreeable,  nor  too  insignificant  to  an- 
noy. A  fretful  child  may  disturb  the  peace 
of  a  whole  household,  and  an  ill-tempered 
young  woman  carries  about  with  her  an  at- 
mosphere of  repulsion  wherever  she  goes. 
The  moment  she  enters  a  room,  where  a  so- 
cial circle  are  enjoying  themselves,  conversa- 
tion either  ceases  or  drags  on  heavily,  as  if  a 
stranger  or  an  enemy  were  near ;  and  kindly 
thoughts,  which  the  moment  before  would 
have  found  frank  and  free  expression,  are 
suppressed,  from  the  instinctive  feeling  that 
she  can  take  no  part  in  them.  Each  one  of 
the  company,  in  short,  feels  the  worse  for  her 
presence,  a  sense  of  contraction  seizes  every 
heart,  a  cloud  falls  upon  every  countenance ; 
and  so  powerful  are  the  sympathies  of  our 
nature,  and  so  rapidly  does  that  which  is  evil 
extend  its  contaminating  influence,  that  all 
this  will  sometimes  be  experienced,  when  not 
a  word  has  been  spoken  by  the  victim  of  ill- 
temper. 

It  is  easy  to  perceive  when  most  young 
women  are  out  of  temper,  even  without  the 
interchange  of  words.  The  pouting  lip,  the 
door  shut  with  violence,  the  thread  suddenly 
snapped,  the  work  twitched  aside  or  thrown 
down,  are  indications  of  the  real  state  of  the 
mind,  at  least  as  unwise,  as  they  are  unlove- 
ly. Others  who  are  not  guilty  of  these  ab- 
surdities, will  render  themselves  still  more 
annoying,  by  a  captiousness  of  conduct,  most 
difficult  to  bear  with  any  moderate  degree  of 
patience ;  by  conversing  only  upon  humilia- 
ting or  unpleasant  subject?,  complaining  in- 
cessantly about  grievances  which  all  have 
equally  to  bear,  prolonging  disputes  about  the 


merest  trifles  beyond  all  bounds  of  reason  and 
propriety  ;  and  by  finally  concluding  with  a 
direct  reproach  for  some  offence  which  had 
far  better  have  been  spoken  of  candidly  at 
first. 

But  there  would  be  no  end  to  the  task  of 
tracing  out  the  symptoms  of  this  malady. 
Suffice  it  that  a  naturally  bad  temper,  or  even 
a  moderate  one  badly  disciplined,  is  the  great- 
est enemy  to  the  happiness  of  a  family  which 
can  be  admitted  beneath  any  respectable  roof 
— the  greatest  hindrance  to  social  intercourse 
— the  most  fatal  barrier  against  moral  and 
religious  improvement 

Like  all  other  evils  incident  to  man,  a  bad 
temper,  if  long  encouraged,  and  thoroughly 
rooted  in  the  constitution,  becomes  in  time 
impossible  to  be  eradicated.  In  youth  it  is 
comparatively  easy  to  stem  the  rising  tide  of 
sullenness,  petulance,  or  passion;  but  when 
the  tide  has  been  allowed  to  gain  ground  so 
as  to  break  down  every  barrier,  until  its  des- 
olating waters  habitually  overflow  the  soul, 
no  human  power  can  drive  them  back,  or 
restore  the  beauty,  freshness,  and  fertility 
which  once  existed  there. 

No  longer,  then,  let  inexperienced  youth 
believe  this  tide  of  evil  can  be  stayed  at  will. 
The  maniac  may  say,  "I  am  now  calm,  I 
will  injure  you  no  more :"  yet,  the  frenzied 
fit  will  come  to-morrow,  when  he  will  turn 
again  and  rend  you.  In  the  same  way,  the 
victim  of  ungoverned  temper  may  even  beg 
forgiveness  for  the  past,  and  promise,  with 
the  best  intentions,  to  offend  no  more ;  but 
how  shall  a  daughter  in  her  mood  of  kind- 
ness heal  the  wound  her  temper  has  inflicted 
on  a  mother's  heart,  or  convince  her  parent 
it  will  be  the  last  1  How  shall  the  woman, 
whose  temper  has  made  desolate  her  house- 
hold hearth,  win  back  the  peace  and  con- 
fidence she  has  destroyed  1  How  shall  the 
wife,  though  she  would  give  all  her  brida 
jewels  for  that  purpose,  restore  the  links  her 
temper  has  rudely  snapped  asunder  in  the 
chain  of  conjugal  affection  1 

No,  there  are  no  other  means  than  those 
adopted  and  pursued  in  youth,  by  which  to 
overcome  this  foe  to  temporal  and  eterna 


BEAUTY,  HEALTH,  AND  TEMPER. 


67 


happiness.  Nor  let  the  task  appear  too  diffi- 
cult. There  is  one  curious  fact  in  connection 
with  the  subject,  which  it  may  be  encourag- 
ing to  my  young  friends  to  remember.  Stran- 
gers never  provoke  us — at  least,  not  in  any 
degree  proportionate  to  the  provocations  of 
our  near  and  familiar  connections.  They 
may  annoy  us  by  their  folly,  or  stay  too  long 
when  they  call,  or  call  at  inconvenient  times ; 
but  how  sweetly  do  we  smile  at  all  their  re- 
marks, how  patiently  do  we  bear  all  their  al- 
lusions, compared  with  those  of  our  family 
circle !  The  fact  is,  they  have  less  power 
over  us,  and  for  this  reason,  because  they 
do  not  know  us  so  well.  Half  the  provoca- 
tions we  experience  from  common  conver- 
sation, and  more  than  half  the  point  of  every 
bitter  taunt,  arise  out  of  some  intended  or 
imagined  allusion  to  what  has  been  known 
or  supposed  of  us  before.  If  a  parent  speaks 
harshly  to  us  in  years  of  maturity,  we  think 
he  assumes  too  much  the  authority  which 
governed  our  childhood  ;  if  a  brother  would 
correct  our  folly,  we  are  piqued  and  morti- 
fied to  think  how  often  he  must  have  seen  it ; 
if  a  sister  blames  us  for  any  trifling  error,  we 
know  what  her  condemnation  of  our  whole 
conduct  must  be,  if  all  our  faults  are  blamed 
in  the  same  proportion.  Thus  it  is  that  our 
near  connections  have  a  hold  upon  us,  which 
strangers  cannot  have  ;  for,  besides  the  cases 
in  which  the  offence  is  merely  imagined,  there 
are  but  too  many  in  which  past  folly  or  trans- 
gression is  made  the  subject  of  present  re- 
proach. And  thus  the  evil  grows,  as  year 
after  year  is  added  to  the  catalogue  of  the 
past,  until  our  nearest  connections  have 
need  of  the  utmost  forbearance  to  avoid 
touching  upon  any  tender  or  forbidden 
point. 

Now,  it  is  evident  that  youth  must  be  com- 
paratively exempt  from  this  real  or  imagina- 
ry source  of  pain  ;  just  in  proportion  as  the 
past  is  of  less  importance  to  them,  and  as 
fewer  allusions  can  be  made  to  the  follies  or 
the  errors  of  their  former  lives.  Thus  the 
season  of  youth  has  greatly  the  advantage 
over  that  of  maturer  age,  in  cultivating  that 
evenness  of  temper  which  enables  its  pos- 


sessor to  pass  pleasantly  along  the  stream  of 
life,  without  unnecessarily  ruffling  its  own 
course,  or  that  of  others. 

The  next  point  we  have  to  take  into  ac- 
count in  the  right  government  of  temper,  is 
the  important  truth,  that  habitual  cheerful- 
ness is  a  duty  we  owe  to  our  friends  and  to 
society.  We  all  have  our  little  troubles,  if 
we  choose  to  brood  over  them,  and  even 
youth  is  not  exempt ;  but  the  habit  is  easily 
acquired  of  setting  them  aside  for  the  sake 
of  others,  of  evincing  a  willingness  to  join  in 
general  conversation,  to  smile  at  what  is  gen- 
erally entertaining,  and  even  to  seek  out  sub- 
jects for  remark  which  are  likely  to  interest 
and  please.  We  have  no  more  right  to  in- 
flict our  moodiness  upon  our  friends,  than 
we  have  to  wear  in  their  presence  our  soiled 
or  cast-off  clothes ;  and,  certainly,  the  latter 
is  the  least  insulting  and  disgraceful  of  the 
two. 

A  cheerful  temper — not  occasionally,  but 
habitually  cheerful — is  a  quality  which  no 
wise  man  would  be  willing  to  dispense  with 
in  choosing  a  wife.  It  is  like  a  good  fire  in 
winter,  diffusive  and  genial  in  its  influence, 
and  always  approached  with  a  confidence 
that  it  will  comfort,  and  do  us  good.  Atten- 
tion to  health  is  one  great  means  of  main- 
taining this  excellence  unimpaired,  and  atten- 
tion to  household  affairs  is  another.  The 
state  of  body  which  women  call  bilious,  is 
most  inimical  to  habitual  cheerfulness ;  and 
that  which  girls  call  having  nothing  to  do, 
but  which  I  should  call  idleness,  is  equally 
so.  In  a  former  part  of  this  chapter,  I  have 
strongly  recommended  exercise  as  the  first 
rule  for  preserving  health  ;  but  there  is  an 
exercise  in  domestic  usefulness,  which,  with- 
out superseding  that  in  the  open  air,  is  high- 
ly beneficial  to  the  health,  both  of  mind  and 
body,  inasmuch  as  it  adds  to  other  benefits, 
the  happiest  of  all  sensations,  that  of  hav- 
ing rendered  some  assistance,  or  done  some 
good. 

How  the  daughters  of  England — those  who 
have  but  few  servants,  or,  perhaps,  only  one 
— can  sit  in  their  fathers'  homes  with  folded 
hands,  when  any  great  domestic  movement  j 


THE  DAUGHTERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


is  going  on,  and  not  endeavor  to  assist,  is  a 
mystery  I  have  tried  in  vain  to  solve ;  espe- 
cially when,  by  so  doing,  they  become  habit- 
ually listless,  weary,  and  unhappy ;  and 
when,  on  the  other  hand,  the  prompt  and 
willingidomestic  assistant  is  almost  invaria- 
bly distinguished  by  the  characteristics  of 
energy  and  cheerfulness.  Let  me  entreat  my 
young  readers,  if  they  ever  feel  a  tendency 
to  causeless  melancholy,  if  they  are  afflicted 
with  cold  feet  and  headache,  but,  above  all, 
with  impatience  and  irritability,  so  that  they 
can  scarcely  make  a  pleasant  reply  when 
spoken  to,  let  me  entreat  them  to  make  trial 
of  the  system  I  am  recommending ;  not  sim- 
ply to  run  into  the  kitchen  and  trifle  with 
the  servants,  but  to  set  about  doing  some- 
thing that  will  add  to  the  general  comfort  of 
the  family,  and  that  will,  at  the  same  time, 
relieve  some  member  of  that  family  of  a  por- 
tion of  daily  toil. 

I  fear  it  is  a  very  unromantic  conclusion  to 
come  to,,  but  my  firm  conviction  is,  that  half 
the  miseries  of  young  women,  and  half  their 
ill  tempers,  might  be  avoided  by  habits  of 
domestic  activity ;  because  (I  repeat  the  fact 
again)  there  is  no  sensation  more  cheering 
and  delightful,  than  the  conviction  of  having 
been  useful ;  and  I  have  generally  found 
young  people  particularly  susceptible  of  this 
pleasure. 

A  willing  temper,  then,  is  the  great  thing 
to  be  attained  ;  a  temper  that  does  not  object, 
that  does  not  resist,  that  does  not  hold  itself 
excused.  A  temper  subdued  to  an  habitual 
acquiescence  with  duty,  is  the  only  temper 
worth  calling  good;  and  this  may  be  the 
portion  of  all  who  desire  so  great  a  blessing, 
who  seek  it  in  youth,  and  who  adopt  the 
only  means  of  making  it  their  own — watch- 
fulness and  prayer. 

I  have  said  nothing  of  the  operation  of  love, 
as  it  relates  to  the  subject  of  this  chapter ; 
but  it  must  be  understood  to  be  pre-eminently 
the  life-spring  of  our  best  endeavors  in  the 
regulation  both  of  health  and  temper,  since 
none  can  fail  in  the  slightest  degree  in  either 
of  these  points,  without  materially  affecting 
the  happiness  of  others. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

SOCIETY,  FASHION,   AND   LOVE   OF   DISTINCTWN- 

SOCIETY  is  often  to  the  daughters  of  9 
family,  what  business  or  a  profession  is  to  the 
sons ;  at  least  so  far  as  regards  the  importance 
attached  to  it,  and  the  opportunity  it  affords 
of  failure  or  success.  Society !  what  a  ca- 
pacious and  dignified  idea  this  word  presents 
to  the  girl  just  entering  upon  womanhood  ! 
What  a  field  for  action  and  sensation !  What 
an  arena  for  the  display  of  all  her  accomplish- 
ments !  How  much  that  is  now  done,  thought, 
and  uttered,  has  society  for  its  object !  How 
much  is  left  undone,  for  the  sake  of  so- 
ciety !  But  let  us  pause  a  moment,  and  ask 
what  society  is.  Is  it  a  community  of  tried 
and  trusted  friends,  united  together  by  the 
ties  of  perfect  love  1  Listen  lo  the  remarks 
of  those,  even  of  your  own  family,  who  re- 
turn from  the  evening  party,  or  the  morning 
call.  Is  it  a  community  of  beings  with  whom 
mind  is  all  in  all,  and  intellectual  improve- 
ment the  purpose  for  which  they  meet  1 
Observe  the  preparations  that  are  made — the 
dress,  the  furniture,  the  food,  the  expense 
that  is  lavished  upon  these.  Is  it  a  commu- 
nity who  even  love  to  meet,  and  who  really 
enjoy  the  social  hours  they  spend  together  1 
Ask  them  in  what  mood  or  temper  they  enter 
upon  the  fatigues  of  the  evening,  or  how  often 
they  wish  that  some  event  would  occur  to 
render  their  presence  unnecessary. 

There  is,  however,  one  class  of  beings, 
who  generally  go  into  society  with  no  want  of 
inclination,  but  who  rather  esteem  no  trouble 
too  great  which  is  the  means  of  bringing  them 
in  contact  with  it,  or  which  enables  them  to 
pass  with  credit  the  ordeal  which  society 
presents.  This  class  of  beings  consists  of 
young  women  who  have  not  had  experience 
enough  to  know  what  society  really  is,  or 
what  is  the  place  assigned  to  them  by  the 
unanimous  opinion  of  society,  in  the  circles 
with  which  they  exchange  visits.  What  an 
event  to  them  is  an  evening  party  !  One 
would  think  each  of  the  young  aspirants  to 
distinction  expected  to  be  the  centre  of  a  cir- 


SOCIETY,  FASHION,  AND  LOVE  OF  DISTINCTION. 


69 


cle,  so  intense  is  the  interest  exhibited  by 
every  act  of  preparation.  The  consequence 
of  all  this,  is  a  more  than  ordinary  degree  of 
causeless  depression  on  the  following  day,  or 
else  an  equal  degree  of  causeless  elevation, 
arising  perhaps  out  of  some  foolish  attention, 
or  flattering  remark,  which  has  been  repeat- 
ed to  half  the  ladies  in  the  room. 

Of  all  the  passions  which  take  possession 
of  the  female  breast,  a  passion  for  society  is 
one  of  the  most  inimical  to  domestic  enjoy, 
ment  Yet,  how  often  does  this  exist  in  con- 
nectiop  with  an  amiable  exterior  !  It  is  not 
easy  to  say,  whether  we  ought  most  to  pity 
or  to  blame  a  woman  who  lives  for  society — 
a  woman  who  reserves  all  her  good  spirits, 
all  her  becoming  dresses,  her  animated  looks, 
her  interesting  conversation,  her  bland  be- 
havior, her  smiles,  her  forbearance,  her  gen- 
tleness for  society — what  imposition  does  she 
practise  upon  those  who  meet  her  there ! 
Follow  the  same  individual  home,  she  is  im- 
patient, fretful,  sullen,  weary,  oppressed  with 
headache,  uninterested  in  all  that  passes 
around  her,  and  dreaming  only  of  the  last 
evening's  excitement,  or  of  what  may  consti- 
tute the  amusement  of  the  next ;  while  the 
mortification  of  her  friends  at  home,  is  in- 
creased by  the  contrast  her  behavior  exhibits 
in  the  two  different  situations,  and  her  ex- 
penditure upon  comparative  strangers,  of 
feelings  to  which  they  consider  themselves  as 
having  a  natural  and  inalienable  right 

As  a  cure  for  this  passion,  I  would  propose 
a  few  remarks,  founded  both  on  observation 
and/  experience.  In  the  first  place,  then,  we 
seldom  find  that  society  affords  us  more 
pleasing  or  instructive  intercourse  than  awaits 
us  at  home  ;  and  as  to  kindly  feeling  towards 
ourselves,  if  not  excited  in  our  nearest  con- 
nections, how  can  we  expect  it  from  those 
wno  know  us  less,  without  having  practised 
upon  them  some  deception  ? 

In  the  next  place,  we  ought  never  to  forget 
our  own  extreme  insignificance  in  society. 
Indeed,  it  may  be  taken  as  a  rule  with  young 
people  in  ordinary  cases,  that  one  half  of  the 
persons  they  meet  in  society  are  not  aware 
of  their  having  been  present,  nor  even  con- 


scious of  the  fact  of  their  existence  ;  that 
another  half  of  the  remaining  number  have 
seen  them  without  any  favorable  impression  ; 
that  another  half  of  those  who  still  remain, 
have  seen  them  with  rather  unfavorable  feel- 
ings than  otherwise ;  while,  of  those  who  re- 
main beyond  these,  the  affectionate  feelings, 
indulgence,  and  cordial  interest,  can  be  as 
nothing,  compared  with  what  they  might  en- 
joy at  home. 

"  How  can  this  be  V  exclaims  the  young 
visitor,  "  when  so  many  persons  look  pleased 
to  see  me,  when  so  many  invitations  are  sent 
me,  when  some  persons  pay  me  such  flatter- 
ing compliments,  and  others  appear  so  de- 
cidedly struck  with  my  appearance  1"  I 
should  be  truly  sorry  to  do  any  thing  to  cool 
down  the  natural  warmth  and  confidence  of 
youth  ;  but,  in  such  cases,  my  rule  for  judg- 
ing is  a  very  simple  one,  depending  upon  the 
result  of  the  following  inquiries: — What  is 
the  proportion  of  persons  you  have  noticed  in 
the  same  company!  What  is  the  proportion 
of  those  by  whom  you  have  felt  yourself  re- 
pelled 1  What  is  the  proportion  of  those  you 
have  really  admired  1  and  the  proportion  of 
those  to  whom  you  have  been  attracted  by 
sympathy,  or  affection  ]  Ask  yourselves 
these  questions,  and  remember,  that  whatever 
may  be  the  flattering  aspect  of  society,  you 
have  no  right  to  expect  to  receive,  in  admi- 
ration, or  good- will,  more  than  you  give. 

There  is  another  class  of  young  women, 
who  appear  to  think  the  only  reason  for  their 
being  invited  in  society,  is,  that  another  place 
may  be  occupied,  another  chair  filled,  and 
another  knife  and  fork  employed  ;  for  as  to 
any  effort  they  make  in  return  for  the  com- 
pliment of  inviting  them,  they  might,  to  all 
intents  and  purposes,  have  been  at  home. 
Now,  where  persons  cannot,  or  dare  not,  con- 
verse— or  where  that  which  alone  deserves 
the  name  of  conversation  is  not  suited  to  the 
habits  or  the  ways  of  thinking  of  those  who 
have  been  at  the  trouble  of  inviting  guests — 
I  am  a  great  advocate  for  cheerful,  easy,  so- 
cial chat ;  provided  only,  it  gives  place  the 
instant  that  something  better  worth  listening 
to  is  commenced.  That  all  ingenious,  warm- 


70 


THE  DAUGHTERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


hearted,  unaffected  young  women,  can  chat, 
and  some  of  them  very  pleasantly  too,  wit- 
ness their  moments  of  unrestrained  confidence 
in  the  company  of  their  friends.  There  is, 
then,  no  excuse  for  those  who  go  into  com- 
pany, and  return  from  it,  without  having  con- 
tributed in  any  way  to  the  enjoyment  of  the 
party  they  had  been  invited  to  meet 

All  young  persons,  however  insignificant, 
must  occasionally  meet  the  eye  of  the  mis- 
tress of  the  house  where  they  are  wishing, 
and  then  is  the  time  to  say  something  expres- 
sive of  interest  in  her,  or  hers ;  such  as  in- 
quiring for  some  absent  member  of  the  family : 
or,  at  any  rate,  proving  in  some  way  or  other, 
that  she  and  her  household  have  interests 
with  which  you  are  not  wholly  unacquaint- 
ed. 

One  of  the  most  genuine,  and  at  the  same 
time  one  of  the  most  pleasing  compliments 
ever  paid,  is  that  of  proving  to  those  we  visit, 
or  receive  as  visitors,  that  we  have  been  pre- 
viously aware  of  their  existence.  There  are 
many  delicate  ways  of  doing  this ;  and  while 
it  injures  no  one,  it  seldom  fails  to  afford  a 
certain  degree  of  gratification.  Social  chat, 
is  that  which  sets  people  at  liberty  to  talk  on 
their  favorite  subjects,  whatever  they  may  be. 
In  society,  too,  we  meet  with  a  large  propor- 
tion of  persons,  who  want  listeners  ;  and  the 
young,  who  cannot  be  supposed  to  have 
amassed  so  large  a  sum  of  information  as 
others,  ought  to  consider  themselves  as  pe- 
culiarly called  upon  to  fill  this  respectable  de- 
partment in  society,  remembering  at  the  same 
time,  that  the  office  of  a  good  listener  can  never 
be  that  of  a  perfectly  silent  one.  There  must 
be  occasionally  an  animated  and  intelligent  re- 
sponse, intervals  of  attentive  and  patient  hear- 
ing, with  a  succession  of  questions,  earnestly, 
but  modestly  put,  and  arising  naturally  out 
of  the  subject,  to  render  the  part  of  the  listener 
of  any  value  in  general  conversation.  The 
vapid  response  effectually  repels ;  the  flat  and 
uninterested  expression  of  countenance  soon 
wearies ;  and  the  question  not  adapted  to  the 
subject  cuts  short  the  narration. 

Let  me  not,  however,  be  understood  to  re- 
commend the  mere  affectation  of  interest,  or 


attention ;  though  perfectly  aware  that  such 
affectation  is  the  current  coin,  by  which  the 
good-will  of  society  is  generally  purchased. 
My  view  of  the  case  is  this — that  the  absence 
of  vanity  and  selfishness  in  our  own  feelings, 
and  benevolence  towards  others,  will  induce 
a  real  interest  in  every  thing  which  concerns 
them,  at  least,  so  far  as  it  may  occupy  the 
conversation  of  an  evening ;  and  are  we  not 
as  much  bound  in  duty  to  be  social,  frank, 
and  talkative  to  little-minded  and  common- 
place persons,  provided  they  have  been  at 
the  pains  to  invite  and  to  entertain  us,  as  if 
they  were  more  intellectual,  or  more  dis- 
tinguished 1  Besides,  how  often  do  we  find 
in  conversation  with  such  persons,  that  they 
are  able  to  give  us  much  useful  information, 
which  individuals  of  a  higher  grade  of  intel- 
lect would  never  have  condescended  to  give ; 
and,  after  all,  there  is  a  vast  sum  of  practi- 
cal and  moral  good  effected  by  persons  of 
this  description,  whose  unvarnished  details 
of  common  things  afford  us  clearer  views  of 
right  and  wrong,  than  more  elaborate  state- 
ments. 

I  have  said,  already,  that  the  indulgence  of 
mere  chat  should  never  be  carried  too  far. 
In  the  society  of  intelligent  and  enlightened 
men,  nothing  can  be  more  at  variance  with 
good  taste,  than  for  women  to  occupy  the  at- 
tention of  the  company  with  their  own  little 
affairs ;  but  especially  when  serious  conversa- 
tion is  carried  on,  no  woman  of  right  feeling 
would  wish  to  interrupt  it  with  that  which  is 
less  important  Nor  ought  this  humble 
substitute  for  conversation,  which  I  have  re- 
commended to  those  who  cannot  do  better, 
or  appreciate  what  is  higher,  on  any  occasion 
to  be  considered  as  the  chief  end  at  which  to 
aim  in  society.  Women  possess  pre-emi- 
nently the  power  of  conversing  well,  if  this 
power  is  rightly  improved  and  exercised  ; 
but  as  this  subject  is  one  which  occupies  so 
large  a  portion  of  a  previous  work,*  I  will 
only  add,  that  my  opinion  remains  the  same 
as  therein  expressed,  that  the  talent  of  con- 
versation is  one  which  it  is  woman's  especial 


*  The  Women  of  England. 


SOCIETY,  FASHION,  AND  LOVE  OF  DISTINCTION. 


71 


duty  to  cultivate,  because  the  duties  of  con- 
versation are  among  those  for  which  she  is 
peculiarly  responsible. 

When  we  think  of  what  society  might  be 
to  the  young,  and  to  the  old,  it  becomes  a 
painful  task  to  speak  to  the  inexperienced, 
the  trusting,  and  the  ardent,  of  what  it  is. 
When  we  think  of  the  seasons  of  mental  and 
spiritual  refreshment,  which  might  thus  be 
enjoyed,  the  interchange  of  mutual  trust  and 
kindness,  the  awakening  of  new  ideas,  the 
correction  of  old  ones,  the  sweeping  away  of 
prejudice,  and  the  establishment  of  truth,  the 
general  enlargement  of  thought,  the  extension 
of  benevolence,  and  the  increase  of  sympathy, 
confidence,  and  good  faith,  which  might  thus 
be  brought  about  among  the  families  of  man- 
kind ;  we  long  to  send  forth  the  young  and 
the  joyous  spirit,  buoyant  with  the  energies 
of  untried  life,  and  warm  with  the  generous 
flow  of  unchecked  feeling,  to  exercise  each 
growing  faculty,  and  prove  each  genuine  im- 
pulse, upon  the  fair  and  flowery  field  which 
society  throws  open,  alike  for  action,  for  feel- 
ing, and  for  thought. 

But,  alas !  such  is  society  as  it  now  ex- 
ists, that  no  mother  venturing  upon  this  ex- 
periment, would  receive  back  to  the  peaceful 
nest  the  wing  so  lately  fledged  unruffled  by 
its  flight,  the  snowy  breast  unstained,  or  the 
beating  heart  as  true  as  when  it  first  went 
forth,  elated  with  the  glowing  hope  of  finding 
in  society  wharit  never  yet  was  rich  enough 
to  yield. 

An  old  and  long-established  charge  is 
brought  against  society  for  its  flattery  and  its 
falsehood,  and  we  go  on  from  year  to  year 
complaining  in  the  same  strain ;  those  who 
have  expected  most,  and  have  been  the  most 
deceived,  complaining  in  the  bitterest  terms. 
But,  suppose  the  daughters  of  England  should 
now  determine  that  they  would  bring  about 
a  reformation  in  society,  how  easily  would 
this  be  done  !  for,  whether  they  know  it  or 
not,  they  have  the  social  morals  of  their  coun- 
try in  their  power.  If  the  excellent,  but 
humble  maxim,  "Let  each  one  mend  one," 
were  acted  up  to  in  this  case,  we  should  have 
no  room  left  to  find  fault  with  others,  for  all 


would  be  too  busily  and  too  well  occupied  yi 
examining  their  own  motives,  and  regulating 
their  own  conduct,  to  make  any  calculations 
upon  what  might  be  done  or  left  undone  by 
others. 

In  the  first  place,  each  young  woman  act- 
ing upon  this  rule,  would  live  for  home, 
trusting  that  society  would  take  care  of  its 
own  interests.  She  would,  however,  enter 
into  it  as  a  social  duty,  rather  than  a  personal 
gratification,  and  she  would  do  this  with  kind 
and  generous  feelings,  determined  to  think 
the  best  she  could  of  her ,  fellow-creatures, 
and  where  she  could  not  understand  their 
motives,  to  give  them  credit  for  good  ones. 
She  would  mix  with  society,  not  for  the  pur- 
pose of  shining  before  others,  but  of  adding 
her  share  to  the  general  enjoyment;  she 
would  consider  every  one  whom  she  met 
there,  as  having  equal  claims  upon  her  at- 
tentions ;  but  her  sympathies  would  be  es- 
pecially called  forth  by  the  diffident,  the  un- 
attractive, or  the  neglected.  Above  all,  she 
would  remember  that  for  the  opportunities 
thus  afforded  her,  of  doing  or  receiving  good, 
she  would  have  to  render  an  account  as  a 
Christian,  and  a  woman ;  that  for  every 
wrong  feeling  not  studiously  checked,  for 
every  falsehood  however  trifling,  or  calcula- 
ted to  please,  for  every  moral  truth  kept 
back  or  disguised  for  want  of  moral  courage 
to  divulge  it,  for  every  uncharitable  insinua- 
tion, for  every  idle  or  amusing  jest  at  the  ex- 
pense of  religious  principle,  and  for  every 
chance  omitted  of  supporting  the  cause  of 
virtue,  however  unpopular,  or  discounte- 
nancing vice,  however  well  received,  her  sit- 
uation was  that  of  a  responsible  being,  of 
whom  an  account  of  all  the  good  capable  of 
being  derived  from  opportunities  like  these, 
would  be  required. 

Need  we  question  for  a  moment  whether 
such  are  the  feelings,  and  such  the  resolu- 
tions, of  those  who  enter  into  society  in  gener- 
al 1  We  doubt  not  but  some  are  thus  influ- 
enced, and  that  they  have  their  reward ;  but 
with  others,  old  associations  and  old  habits 
are  strong,  and  they  think  that  one  can  do 
nothing  against  the  many ;  and  thus  they 


THE  DAUGHTERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


w8itf  and  wish  tilings  were  otherwise,  but 
never  set  about  the  reformation  themselves. 
Yet,  surely  these  are  times  for  renovated  ef- 
fort on  the  part  of  women,  to  whom  the  in- 
terests of  society  belong ;  for  let  men  rule,  as 
they  unquestionably  have  a  right  to  do,  in 
the  senate,  the  camp,  and  the  court ;  it  is 
women  whose  sentiments  and  feelings  give 
tone  to  society,  and  society  which  in  its  turn 
influences  the  sentiments  and  feelings  of 
mankind.  Each  generation,  as  it  arises,  ma- 
tures, and  consolidates  into  another  series  of 
social  intercourse,  bears  the  impress  which 
society  has  stamped  upon  the  last ;  and  so 
powerful  is  the  influence  thus  derived,  that 
the  laws  of  a  nation  would  be  useless  in  de- 
fence of  virtue,  if  the  voice  of  society  was 
raised  against  it 

How  often  has  the  tender  and  anxious  mo- 
ther had  to  deplore  this  influence  upon  the 
minds  of  her  children  !  Until  they  mingled 
with  society,  they  were  respectful,  attentive, 
and  obedient  to  her  injunctions,  confiding  im- 
plicitly in  the  rectitude  and  the  reasonable- 
ness of  her  requirements.  But  society  soon 
taught  them  that  the  views  of  their  parents 
were  unenlightened,  old-fashioned,  or  absurd ; 
that  even  the  motives  for  enforcing  them 
might  not  be  altogether  pure ;  and  that  none 
who  mixed  in  good  society,  ought  to  submit 
to  regulations  so  childish  and  humiliating. 

If  then,  such  be  the  influence  of  society, 
how  important  is  it  that  so  powerful  an  agent 
should  be  engaged  on  the  side  of  virtue  and 
of  truth !  And  that  it  already  is  so  in  many 
most  important  cases,  I  acknowledge,  to  the 
honor  of  my  country,  believing  that  the  gen- 
eral tone  of  society  is  highly  favorable  to  that 
high  moral  standard,  for  which  England  is 
pre-eminent  over  every  nation  of  the  world. 
I  allude  particularly  to  the  preservation  of  the 
character  of  woman  from  the  slightest  taint 
The  rules,  or  rather  the  opinions  of  society, 
as  to  what  is  correct  or  incorrect  in  female 
conduct,  extending  down  to  the  most  minute 
points  of  behavior,  are  sometimes  considered 
to  be  too  strict,  and  even  rebelled  against  by 
high-spirited  ignorant  young  women  as  being 
too  severe.  But  let  no  one,  in  her  blindness 


or  temerity,  venture  upon  the  slightest  trans- 
gression of  these  rules,  because  in  her  young 
wisdom  she  Sees  no  cause  for  their  existence. 
Society  has  good  reasons  for  planting  this 
friendly  hedge  beside  the  path  of  woman,  and 
the  day  will  come  when  she  will  be  thankful 
— truly  thankful  that  her  own  conduct,  even 
in  minute  and  apparently  trifling  matters,  was 
not  left  in  early  life  to  the  decision  of  her 
own  judgment,  or  the  guidance  of  her  own 
will. 

It  ought  rather  to  be  the  pride  of  every 
English  woman,  that  such  are  the  conditions 
of  society  in  her  native  land,  that  whether 
motherless  or  undisciplined  in  her  domestic 
lot,  she  cannot  become  a  member  of  good  so- 
ciety, or  at  least  retain  her  place  there,  with- 
out submitting  to  restrictions ;  which,  while 
they  deprive  her  of  no  real  gratification,  are 
at  once  the  safeguard  of  her  peace,  the  sup- 
port of  her  moral  dignity,  and  the  protection 
of  her  influence  as  a  sister,  a  wife,  a  mother, 
and  a  friend. 

Let  us  then  be  thankful  to  society  for  the 
good  it  has  done,  and  is  doing,  to  thousands 
who  have  perhaps  no  watchful  eye  at  home, 
no  warning  voice  to  tell  them  how  far  to  go, 
and  when  to  go  no  further.  Nor  can  we  for 
a  moment  hesitate  to  yield  our  assent  to  these 
restrictions  imposed  upon  our  sex,  when  we 
look  at  the  high  moral  standing  of  the  women 
of  England,  and  think  how  much  the  tone  of 
society  has  to  do  with  the  maintenance  of 
their  true  interests.  Let  xis  not,  however, 
stop  here.  If  there  is  so  much  that  is  good 
in  society,  why  should  there  not  be  more? 
Why  should  there  still  remain  the  trifling,  the 
slander,  the  envy,  the  low  suspicion,  the  false- 
hood, the  flattery,  which  ruffle  and  disfigure 
the  surface  of  society,  and  render  it  too  much 
like  a  treacherous  ocean,  on  which  no  well- 
wisher  to  the  young  would  desire  to  trust  an 
untried  bark? 

A  feeling  of  moral  dignity  taken  with  us  in- 
to society,  would  be  a  great  preservative 
against  much  of  this  ;  because  it  would  lift 
us  out  of  the  littleness  of  low  observations, 
and  petty  cavillings  about  dress  and  manners. 
A  spirit  of  love  would  do  more,  extending 


SOCIETY,  FASHION,  AND  LOVE  OF  DISTINCTION. 


through  all  the  different  channels  of  forbear- 
ance, benevolence,  and  mutual  trust.  But 
a  Christian  spirit  would  do  still  more  ;  be- 
cause it  would  embrace  the  whole  law  of  love, 
at  the  same  time  that  it  \vould»  impress  the 
seal  of  truth  upon  all  we  might  venture 
to  say  or  do.  Thus  might  a  great  moral  ref- 
ormation ba  effected,  and  effected  by  the 
young — by  young  women  too,  and  effected 
without  presumption,  and  without  display  ; 
for  the  humble  and  unobtrusive  working  out 
of  these  principles,  would  be  as  much  at  va- 
riance with  ostentation,  as  they  would  be  fa- 
vorable to  the  cultivation  of  all  that  is  estima- 
ble in  the  female  character,  both  at  home  and 
abroad. 

One  of  the  greatest  drawbacks  to  the  good 
influence  of  society,  is  the  almost  unrivalled 
power  of  fashion  upon  the  female  mind. 
Wherever  civilized  society  exists,  fashion  ex- 
ercises her  all-pervading  influence.  All  stoop 
to  it,  more  or  less,  and  appear  to  esteem  it  a 
merit  to  do  so ;  while  a  really  fashionable  wo- 
man, though  both  reprobated  and  ridiculed, 
has  an  influence  in  society  which  is  little  less 
than  absolute.  Yet,  if  we,  would  choose  out 
the  most  worthless,  the  most  contemptible, 
and  the  least  efficient  of  moral  agents,  it  would 
be  the  slave  of  fashion. 

Say  the  best  we  can  of  fashio^  it  is  only  an 
imaginary  or  conventional  rule,  by  which  a 
certain  degree  of  order  and  uniformity  is 
maintained  ;  while  the  successive  and  fre- 
quent variations  in  this  rule,  are  considered 
to  be  the  means  of  keeping  in  constant  exer- 
cise our  arts  and  manufactures.  I  am  not 
political  economist  enough  to  know  whether 
the  same  happy  results  might  not  be  brought 
about  by  purer  motives,  and  nobler  means  ; 
but  it  has  always  appeared  to  me  one  of 
the  greatest  of  existing  absurdities,  that  q| 
whole  community  of  people,  differing  in  com- 
plexion, form,  and  feature,  as  widely  as  the 
same  species  can  differ,  should  not  only  de- 
sire to  wear  precisely  the  same  kind  of  dress, 
but  should  often  labor,  strive,  and  struggle, 
deceive,  envy,  and  cheat,  and  spend  their  own 
substance,  and  often  more  than  they  can  law- 
fully call  their  own — to  do  what  1  To  obtain 


a  dress,  which  is  to  them  most  unbecoming, 
or  an  article  of  furniture  wholly  unsuited  to 
themselves  and  their  establishment. 

My  own  idea,  and  I  believe  it  is  founded 
upon  a  long-cherished,  and  perhaps  too  ar-^ 
dent  admiration  of  personal  beauty,  is,  that 
fashion  ought  to  favor  all  which  is  most  be- 
coming. It  is  true,  we  should  at  first  be  great- 
ly at  a  loss  to  know  what  was  becoming,  be- 
cause we  should  have  the  power  and  the  pre- 
judice of  fashion  to  contend  with  ;  but  there 
can  be  no  doubt  that  individual,  as  well  as 
public  taste,  would  be  improved  by  such  ex- 
ercise, and  that  our  manufactures  would  in 
the  end  be  equally  benefited,  though  for  some 
time  it  might  be  difficult  to  calculate  upon 
the  probable  demand.  Nor  can  I  think  that 
female  vanity  would  be  more  encouraged 
than  it  now  is,  by  thus  consulting  personal 
and  relative  fitness ;  because  the  young  wo- 
man who  now  goes  into  company  fashiona- 
bly disfigured,  believes  herself  to  be  quite  as 
beautiful  as  if  she  was  really  so.  Neither  can 
I  see  that  we  are  not  bound  to  study  how  to 
make  the  best  of  our  appearance,  for  the  sake 
of  our  friends,  as  well  as  how  to  make  the 
best  of  our  manners,  our  furniture,  and  our 
food. 

Fashion,  however,  never  takes  this  into 
account.  According  to  her  arbitrary  law,  the 
woman  of  sallow  complexion  must  wear  the 
same  color  as  the  Hebe ;  the  contracted  or 
misshapen  forehead  must  be  laid  as  bare  as 
that  which  displays  the  fairest  page  of  beau- 
ty ;  the  form  with  square  and  awkward  shoul- 
ders, must  wear  the  same  costume  as  that 
which  boasts  the  contourof  the  Graces;  and 
oh  !  most  pitiful  of  all,  old  age  must  be 
"  pranked  up"  in  the  light  drapery,  the  flow- 
ers, and  the  gauds  of  youth  !  In  addition  to 
all  this,  each  one,  as  an  indispensable  requi- 
site, must  possess  a  waist  considerably  below 
the  dimensions  which  are  consistent  either 
with  symmetry  or  health. 

It  will  be  an  auspicious  era  in  the  experi- 
ence of  the  daughters  of  England,  when  they 
shall  be  convinced,  that  the  Grecians  had  a 
higher  standard  of  taste  in  female  beauty, 
than  that  of  the  shopkeepers  and  dressma- 


71 


THE  DAUGHTERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


kers  of  London.  They  will  then  be  willing 
to  believe,  that  to  be  within  the  exact  rule  of 
proportion,  is  as  important  a  deviation  from 
perfect  beauty,  as  to  be  beyond  it ;  and  that 
nothing  which  destroys  the  grace  of  easy  and 
natural  movement,  which  deprives  any  bodi- 
ly function  of  its  necessary  exercise,  which 
robs  the  youthful  cheek  of  its  bloom,  or,  in 
short,  which  ungratefully  throws  back  from 
our  possession  the  invaluable  blessing  of 
health,  can  be  consistent  with  the  good  taste 
or  right  feeling  of  an  amiable,  intelligent,  or 
rational  woman. 

These  remarks  are  applicable,  in  their  full- 
est force,  to  every  deviation  which  is  sanc- 
tioned by  fashion,  from  the  strict  and  holy 
law  of  modesty  and  decorum.    And  of  this 
most  injurious  tendency  of  fashion,  how  in- 
sidious is  every  encroachment,  yel  how  cer- 
tain its  effect  upon  the  female  mind  !     It  is 
no  uncommon  thing  to  hear  women  express 
the  utmost  abhorrence  of  the  costume   of 
some  old  portrait,  who,  in  the  course  of  a 
few  years,  perhaps  months,  are  induced  by 
fashion  to  adopt,  with  unblushing  satisfac- 
tion, an  equally,  or  more  objectionable  dress. 
The  young  girl  cannot  too  scrupulously 
shroud  her  modest  feelings  from  the  unspa- 
ring test  of  fashion.     The  bloom  of  modesty 
is  soon  rubbed  off  by  vulgar  contact;  bu 
what  is  thus  lost  to  the  young  female  can 
never  be  restored.    And  let  her  look  to  the 
risk  she  incurs.    What  is  it  7     On  the  one 
hand,  to  be  thought  a  little  less  fashionable 
than  her  friends  and  neighbors — on  the  other 
to  be  thought  a  little  more  exposed  than  a  del 
icate  woman  ought  to  be.    Is  there  any  com 
parison  between  the  two  1     Or  is  there  oni 
of  the  daughters  of  England,  who  would  no 
rather  be  known  to  choose  the  former  1 

If  •possessed  of  any   genuine   feeling  on 
these  important  points,  a  young  woman  wi 
know  by  a  kind  of  instinct,  that  a  bare  shoul 
der  protruding  into  sight,  is  neither  a  delicat 
nor  a  lovely  object ;  that  a  dress,  either  s< 
made,  or  so  put  on,  as  not  to  look  secure  ani 
neat,  is,  to  say  the  least  of  it,  in  bad  taste 
and  that  the  highest  standard  at  which 
rightly-minded  woman  can  aim  with  regar 


o  dress,  is,  that  it  should  be  becoming,  and 
ot  conspicuous.  In  order  to  secure  this 
ast  point  of  excellence,  it  is  unquestionably 
ecessary  to  conform  in  some  measure  to  the 
ashion  of  the  times  in  which  we  live,  and 
lie  circle  of  society  in  which  we  move ;  yet, 
urely  this  may  be  done  to  an  extent  suffi- 
ient  to  avoid  the  charge  of  singularity,  with- 
mt  the  sacrifice  either  of  modesty  or  good 
taste. 

Whatever  may  be  the  beneficial  influence 
f  fashion  upon  the  interests  of  the  country 
at  large,  its  effects  upon  individual  happiness 
are  injurious  in  proportion  to  their  extent ; 
and  in  what  region  of  the  world,  or  among 
what  grade  of  humanity,  has  not  this  idol  of 
he  gilded  shrine,  this  divinity  of  lace  and 
ribbons,  wielded  the  sceptre  of  a  sovereign, 
and  asserted  her  dominion  over  mankind  1 
All  bow  before  her,  though  many  of  her  sub- 
jects disclaim  her  title,  and  profess  to  despise 
her  authority.    Nor  is  her  territory  less  ex- 
tensive, because  her  empire  is  one  of  trifles. 
From  the  ermine  of  the  monarch  to  the  san- 
dal of  the  clown  ;  from  the  bishop's  lawn,  to 
the  itinerant's  cravat ;  from  the  hero's  man- 
tle, to  the  mechanic's  apron  ;  it  is  fashion 
alone  which  regulates  the  form,  the  quality, 
and  the  cost. 

Fashion  is  unjustly  spoken  of  as  presiding 
only  in  the  festive  dance,  the  lighted  hall,  the 
crowded  court  Would  that  her  influence 
were  confined  to  these  alone  !  but,  alas  !  we 
find  her  in  the  most  sedate  assemblies,  cool- 
ing down  each  tint  of  coloring  that  else  might 
glow  too  warmly,  smoothing  off  excrescences, 
and  rounding  angles  to  one  general  uniformi- 
ty of  shape  and  tone.  Her  task,  however,  is 
but  a  short  one  here,  and  she  passes  on 
through  all  the  busy  haunts  of  life,  neglect- 
gng  neither  high  nor  low,  nor  rich  nor  poor, 
until  she  enters  the  very  sanctuary,  and  bows 
before  the  altar,  not  only  walking  with  the 
multitude  who  keep  holy  day,  but  bending  in 
sable  sorrow  over  the  last  and  dearest  frienc 
committed  to  the  tomb.  Yes,  there  is  some- 
thing monstrous  in  the  thought,  that  we  can- 
not weep  for  the  dead,  but  fa.-hion  must  dis- 
guise our  grief;  and  that  we  cannot  stanc 


SOCIETY,  FASHION,  AND  LOVE  OF  DISTINCTION. 


75 


before  the  altar,  and  pronounce  that  solemn 
vow,  which  the  deep  heart  of  woman  alone 
can  fully  comprehend,  but  fashion  must  be 
especially  consulted  there. 

Yet  worse  even  than  all  this,  is  the  influ- 
ence which  our  love  of  fashion  has  upon  our 
servants,  and  upon  the  poor.  Every  Chris- 
tian woman  sees  and  deplores  the  evil,  and 
many  wholesome  restrictions  are  laid  upon 
poor  girls,  in  their  attendance  at  Sunday- 
schools,  and  other  establishments  for  their 
instruction  ;  but  are  not  the  plans  most  fre- 
quently adopted  for  the  correction  of  this  evil, 
like  telling  little  children  at  table  that  good 
things  are  not  safe  for  them,  yet  eating  them 
ourselves,  and  making  much  of  them  too,  as 
if  they  were  the  greatest  treat  1 

Christians,  I  believe,  will  find  they  have 
much  to  give  up  yet,  before  the  cause  of 
Christ  will  -prosper  as  they  wish  it  in  our 
native  land.  Never  will  the  young  servant 
cease  to  walk  the  streets  with  pride  and  sat- 
isfaction in  the  exhibition  of  her  newly-pur- 
chased and  fashionable  attire,  so  long  as  she 
sees  the  young  ladies,  in  the  family  she 
serves,  make  it  their  greatest  object  to  be 
fashionably  dressed.  They  may  say,  and 
with  some  justice,  that  she  has  no  right  to 
regulate  her  conduct  by  their  rule  ;  they  may 
reason  with,  and  even  reprove  her  too  ;  but 
neither  reasoning  nor  reproof  will  have  the 
power  to  correct,  so  long  as  example  weighs 
down  the  opposite  scale.  The  vanity,  the 
weakness  of  woman  is  the  same  in  the  kitch- 
en as  in  the  drawing-room;  and  if  fashion  is 
omnipotent  in  one,  we  cannot  expect  it  to  be 
powerless  in  the  other. 

The  question  then  has  come  to  this :  shall 
we  continue  to  compete  with  our  servants  in 
dress,  now  that  excess  has  become  an  evil ; 
or  shall  we  endeavor,  for  their  sakes  as  well 
as  our  own,  to  compete  with  them  in  self- 
denial,  and  in  ^courage  to  do  right  1  How 
can  we  pause — how  can  we  hesitate  in  such 
a  choice  ]  Our  decision  once  made  on  this 
important  point,  we  shall  soon  find  that  fash- 
ion has  been  with  us,  as  well  as  with  them,  a 
hard  mistress.  Yes,  fashion  has  often  de- 
manded of  us  the  only  sum  of  money  we  had 


been  able  to  lay  by  for  the  needy  poor; 
while  with  them  it  has  wrung  the  father's 
scanty  pittance  from  his  hand,  to  supply  the 
daughter  with  the  trappings  of  her  own  dis- 
grace. Fashion  with  us  has  often  set  on  fire 
the  flame  of  envy,  and  embittered  the  shafts 
of  ridicule;  while  with  them  it  has  been  a 
fruitful  source  of  deceit,  dishonesty,  and 
crime.  Fashion  with  us  has  often  broken 
old  connections,  made  us  ashamed  of  valua- 
ble friends,  and  proud  of  those  whose  friend- 
ship was  our  bane ;  while  with  them  it  has 
been  the  means  of  introducing  the  young 
and  the  unwary  to  the  companionship  of  the 
treacherous  and  the  depraved. 

I  have  said  that  fashion  is  a  hard  mistress : 
when  we  contemplate  some  scenes  exhibited, 
not  to  th«  eye  of  the  stranger,  but  within  the 
circle  of  private  families  in  this  prosperous 
and  enlightened  country,  we  are  often  led  to 
doubt,  whether  its  boasted  happiness  is  really 
so  universal  as  patriot  poets  and  patriot  ora- 
tors would  teach  us  to  believe.  There  is  a 
state  of  things  existing  behind  the  scenes  in 
many  English  homes,  an  under-current  be- 
neath the  fair  surface  of  domestic  peace,  to 
which  belong  some  of  the  most  pressing  anx- 
ieties, the  darkest  forebodings,  and  the  bit- 
terest reflections  of  which  the  human  mind  is 
capable,  and  all  arising  out  of  the  great  na- 
tional evil  of  competing  with  our  neighbors 
in  the  luxuries  and  elegances  of  life,  so  as  to 
be  living  constantly  up  to  the  extent  of  our 
pecuniary  means,  and  too  frequently  beyond 
them. 

It  is  not  likely  that  young  women  should 
understand  this  evil  in  its  full  extent,  or  be 
aware  of  the  many  sad  consequences  result- 
ing from  it,  but  they  do  understand  that  it  is 
not  necessity,  nor  comfort,  nor  yet  respecta- 
bility, which  makes  them  press  upon  their 
parents  the  often-repeated  demand  for  money, 
where  there  is  none  to  spare.  No ;  it  is 
fashion,  the  tyrant-mistress  upon  whose  ser- 
vice they  have  entered,  who  calls  upou  them 
to  be  dressed  in  the  appointed  livery  of  all 
her  slaves ;  and  thus  they  wring  a  father's 
heart  with  sorrow,  perhaps  deprive  him  of 
the  necessary  comforts  of  old  age ;  or  they 


76 


THE  DAUGHTERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


send  away  unpaid  a  poor  and  honest  trades- 
man, because  they  cannot,  "absolutely  can- 
not," appear  in  company  with  an  unfashion- 
able dress. 

Now,  does  it  never  occur  to  the  amiable, 
and  the  affectionate,  that  a  particular  color 
or  form  of  dress  is  hardly  worth  a  parent's 
heartache  1  I  know  it  does  ;  and  they  feel 
sorry  sometimes  to  be  thus  the  cause  of  what 
they  would  persuade  themselves  was  unne- 
cessary pain.  But  fashion  is  a  cruel,  as 
well  as  a  hard  mistress  ;  and  she  tells  them 
that,  despite  the  remonstrances  of  parental 
love,  despite  the  legal  claims  of  those  whose 
need  is  greater  than  their  own,  despite  the 
stain  upon  their  father's  house  and  name,  if 
found  unable  to  discharge  his  lawful  debts, 
her  rule  is  absolute,  and  she  must  be  obeyed. 
Yes,  I  know  it  does  come  home  to  the  hearts 
of  the  feeling  and  the  kind,  to  make  these 
frequent  and  these  urgent  applications,  where 
they  know  that  the  pecuniary  means  of  the 
family  are  small ;  and  sometimes  they  do  try 
to  go  forth  into  company  again,  with  a  dress 
not  cut  according  to  the  newest  mode.  But 
fashion  is  revengeful,  as  she  is  cruel ;  and 
she  turns  upon  them  with  the  ridicule  of 
gayer  friends,  and  asks  whether  the  garb 
they  wear  was  the  costume  of  the  ark  ;  and, 
instantly,  all  that  is  noble,  and  generous,  and 
disinterested  in  their  nature,  sinks,  and  they 
become  subject,  perhaps,  to  as  much  real 
suffering  for  the  time,  as  if  they  had  destroyed 
a  mother's  peace,  or  involved  a  father  in  pe- 
cuniary difficulty. 

But  let  them  not  be  discouraged  at  thus 
being  deprived  for  an  instant  of  moral  dig- 
nity, and  moral  power.  The  better  feelings 
of  their  nature  will  rally,  the  vitality  of  higher 
principles  will  revive,  if  they  will  but  make 
a  stand  against  the  enemy ;  or,  rather,  if  they 
will  but  reflect,  that  fashion,  under  whose 
tyranny  they  are  quailing,  is,  in  reality,  an 
enemy,  and  not  a  friend.  She  is  an  enemy, 
because  she  has  incited  them  to  much  evil, 
and  to  no  good.  She  is  an  enemy,  because 
when  they  sink  into  poverty  or  distress,  led 
on  by  her  instigation,  she  immediately  for- 
sakes, and  leaves  them  to  their  fate.  Fashion 


never  yet  was  on  the  side  of  suffering,  of  sor- 
row, or  of  want  Her  favorite  subjects  are 
the  successful,  the  arrogant,  the  vain-glorious ; 
the  objects  of  her  contempt  are  the  humble, 
the  afflicted,  and  tl«?  poor. 

Let  the  young,  then,  bear  about  with  them 
the  remembrance  of  this  fact,  that  there  are 
strong  influences  which  obtain  even  in  good 
society,  but  which  are  not  really  to  be  weighed 
in  the  balance  against  the  minutest  fraction 
of  Christian  duty  ;  and  that  fashion,  although 
approved,  and  even  courted  by  all  classes 
and  denominations  of  mankind,  and  present, 
by  general  invitation,  at  all  places  of  public 
resort,  even  on  occasions  the  most  sacred 
and  solemn,  so  far  from  having  part  or  lot  in 
any  thing  pertaining  to  religion,  can  only  dis- 
play the  symbols  of  her  triumph  in  the  house 
of  prayer,  as  a  badge  of  human  weakness, 
and  a  proof  that  our  follies  and  infirmities 
are  with  us  even  there. 

Beyond  the  love  of  fashion,  which  is  com- 
mon to  all  classes  of  society,  there  some- 
times exists  in  the  female  breast  a  passion  of 
a  deeper  and  still  more  dangerous  nature, 
which  society  has  a  powerful  tendency  to 
call  forth ;  I  mean  the  love  of  distinction. 
In  man,  this  passion  is  ambition.  In  woman, 
it  is  a  selfish  desire  to  stand  apart  from  the 
many ;  to  be  something  of,  and  by,  herself; 
to  enjoy  what  she  does  enjoy,  and  to  appro- 
priate the  tribute  which  society  offers  her, 
distinct  from  the  sisterhood  to  which  she  be- 
longs. Of  such  women  it  may  truly  be  said, 
"  they  have  their  reward." 

The  first  and  most  frequent  aim  to  which 
this  passion  directs  itself,  is  to  be  the  idol  of 
society  ;  which  is  synonymous  with  being  the 
butt  of  ridicule,  and  the  mock  of  envy,  to  all 
who  witness  her  pretensions,  especially  to 
all  who  have  failed  in  the  same  career.  No 
sooner  does  a  woman  begin  to  feel  herself 
the  idol  of  society,  than  she  finds  around  her 
daily  path  innumerable  temptations,  of  which 
she  had  never  dreamed  before.  Her  exalted 
position  is  maintained,  not  by  the  universal 
suffrage  of  her  friends,  for  at  least  one  half 
of  them  would  pluck  her  down  if  they  were 
able  ;  but  by  the  indefatigable  exercise  of  her 


SOCIETY,  FASHION,  AND  LOVE  OF  DISTINCTION. 


77 


ingenuity  in  the  way  of  evading,  stooping, 
conciliating,  and  sometimes  deceiving ;  as 
well  as  by  a  continued  series  of  efforts  to  be 
cheerful  when  depressed,  witty  when  abso-. 
lutely  dull,  and  animated,  brilliant,  and  amu- 
sing, when  disappointed,  weary,  or  distressed. 

When  we  think  that  all  this  must  be  gone 
through,  evening  afte*r  evening,  in  the  same 
company,  as  well  as  among  strangers,  and 
without  excitement  as  well  as  with,  in  order 
to  prevent  the  title  of  the  occupant  of  that 
distinguished  place  from  being  disputed,  we 
are  led  to  exclaim,  that  the  miner,  the  con- 
vict, and  the  slave  have  an  easier  and  a  hap- 
pier lot  than  hers.  Nor  is  this  all.  The 
very  eminence  on  which  she  stands,  renders 
all  her  faults  and  failures  so  much  the  more 
conspicuous  ;  while  it  enables  every  stander- 
by  to  test  the  validity  of  her  pretensions,  and 
to  triumph  over  every  flaw. 

What  a  situation  for  a  woman ! — for  a 
young,  affectionate,  trusting,  and  simple- 
hearted  woman  !  No,  never  yet  was  sim- 
plicity of  heart  allied  to  ambition.  And  the 
woman  who  aspires  to  be  the  idol  of  society, 
must  be  satisfied  to  give  up  this  fair  hand- 
maid from  her  train — this  pearl  from  her 
coronet — this  white  rose  from  her  wreath. 
When  a  woman's  simplicity  of  heart  is  gone 
she  is  no  longer  safe  as  a  friend,  faithful  as  a 
sister,  or  tender  and  true  as  a  wife.  But  as 
a  mother !  nature  revolts  from  the  thought, 
that  infant  weakness  should  be  cradled  in  the 
bosom  whose  simplicity  is  gone. 

Anotl  er  form  which  the  love  of  distinction 
assumes,  is  that  of  singularity.  I  have  al- 
ready said  much  on  the  subject  of  good 
taste,  to  show  that  it  holds  an  important 
place  among  the  excellences  of  woman,  so 
much  so,  as  almost  to  supply  the  want  of 
judgment,  where  that  quality  is  deficient 
Nothing,  however,  can  more  effectually  prove 
the  absence  of  good  taste  in  women,  than  to 
be  singular  by  design.  Many  are  so  consti- 
tuted as  to  be  unavoidably  singular ;  bul 
even  this  is  only  reconciled  by  their  friends 
on  the  ground  that  they  would  lose  much  in 
originality  and  strength  of  character,  by  study- 
ing to  be  more  like  the  generality  of  women 


One  of  the  most  wholesome  and  effectual 
checks  upon  this  juvenile  and  ill-judged  de- 
ire  to  be  singular,  might  be  derived  from  the 
fact,  that  singularity  in   woman  invariably 
excites  remarks,  that  such  remarks  almost 
as  invariably   degenerate  into  scandal,  and 
that  scandal  always  destroys  good  influence. 
However  innocent   a  woman  may  be,  how 
much  soever  she  may  desire  to  be  useful  to 
others,  the  fact  of  her  being  the  subject  of  scan- 
dal effectually  destroys  her  power  ;  for  no  one 
likes  to  be  dictated  to  by  a  person  of  whom 
strange  things  are  spoken  ;  .and  the  agent  of 
Christian  benevolence  is  always  less  efficient, 
for  being  generally  considered  odd.    Still,  if 
the  world  would  pause  here,  all  might  be 
well.    But  our  oddities,  while  they  provoke 
the  laughter  of  the  gay,  seem  unaccountably 
to  have  the  effect  of  awakening  the  anger  of 
the  grave ;  so  that  we  not  unfrequently  find 
persons  more   severely  reflected  upon  for 
comparatively  innocent  peculiarities,  than  for 
acts  of  real  culpability. 

A  repetition  of  such  reflections  and  injuri- 
ous remarks  passing  through  society,  upon 
the  principle  of  a  snow-ball  over  a  drifted 
plain,  obtains  in  time  a  sort  of  bad  name,  or 
questionable  character,  for  the  individual 
against  whom  they  are  directed,  which  no 
explanation  can  do  any  thing  to  clear  away , 
because  founded  on  facts  of  so  singular  a 
nature,  that  few  people  understand  how,  in 
the  common  course  of  things,  they  could 
have  happened,  and  consequently  few  have 
charity  enough  to  believe  they  could  origi- 
nate in  any  thing  hut  evil.  It  is  thus  that  the 
character  of  woman  so  often  suffers  unjustly 
from  her  oddities.  Strangers  cannot  under- 
stand why  we  acted  as  we  did,  enemies  sug- 
gest a  bad  motive  as  the  most  probable,  gos- 
sips take  up  the  scandal,  and  friends  in  their 
turn  believe  it  true  ;  while  we,  surprised  am 
indignant  that  so  innocent  a  mode  of  action 
should  bear  so  injurious  a  construction,  are 
unable  to  defend  it,  simply  because  it  was 
out  of  the  ordinary  pale  of  human  conduct, 
though  prompted  by  the  same  motives  which 
influence  the  rest  of  mankind. 

It  may  justly  be  said  of  the  world,  that  in 


THE  DAUGHTERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


one  sense  it  is  a  cruel  censor  of  woman  ;  but 
in  another  it  is  kind.  It  is,  as  I  have  just 
described,  unjustly  severe  upon  individual 
singularity  ;  but  by  its  harsh  and  ready  cen- 
sures, how  many  does  it  deter  from  entering 
upon  the  same  course  of  folly,  so  sure  to  end 
in  wounded  feeling,  if  not  in  loss  of  influ- 
ence and  respectability ! 

Let  it  then  be  kept  in  mind,  that  woman,  if 
she  would  preserve  her  peace,  her  safe  foot- 
ing in  society,  her  influence,  and  her  unblem- 
ished purity,  must  avoid  remark  as  an  indi- 
vidual, at  least  in  public.  The  piquant  amuse- 
ments of  home,  consist  much  in  the  display 
of  originality  of  character,  and  there  it  is  safe. 
There  her  feelings  are  understood,  her  mo- 
tives are  trusted  to,  because  they  have  been 
long  known,  and  there  the  brooding  wing  of 
parental  love  is  ever  ready  to  shroud  her 
peculiarities  from  too  dangerous  an  exposure. 
In  the  world  it  is  not  so.  Society  is  very 
false  to  us  in  this  respect  For  the  sake  of 
an  evening's  entertainment,  singularity  is  en- 
couraged and  drawn  out  The  mistress  of 
the  house,  who  wishes  only  to  see  her  party 
amused,  feels  no  scruple  in  placing  this 
temptation  before  unguarded  youth.  But  let 
not  the  ready  laugh,  the  gay  response,  the 
flattering  attention  for  a  moment  deceive  you 
as  to  the  real  state  of  the  case.  It  is  "  seem- 
ing all,"  and  those  who  have  been  the  most 
amused  by  your  singularities,  will  not  be  the 
last  to  make  them  the  subject  of  bitter  and 
injurious  remark. 

If  these  observations  upon  society  should 
appear  to  any,  cynical  or  severe,  or  calcula- 
ted to  depress  the  natural  ardor  of  youth, 
rather  than  direct  it  into  safer  and  more 
wholesome  channels ;  it  must  be  remembered, 
that  my  design  throughout  this  work,  is  to 
speak  of  the  world  as  it  is,  not  merely  as  it 
ought  to  be ;  and  though  I  know  there  are 
circles  of  society,  where  aims,  and  motives, 
and  laws  of  union  exist,  of  a  far  higher  order 
than  to  admit  of  the  falsehood  or  the  little- 
ness to  which  I  have  alluded ;  yet  such,  it 
must  be  acknowledged,  is  the  general  tone  of 
ordinary  visiting  or  mixing  in  company,  that 
the  follies  of  unguarded  youth  meet  with  little 


candor,  and  still  less  kind  correction,  even 
among  those  who  are  associated  with  us  as 
friends.  I  know  that  the  voice  of  experience 
is  an  unwelcome  one,  when  thus  lifted  up 
against  that  of  the  world,  which  speaks  so 
smoothly  in  its  first  intercourse  with  the  young 
and  inexperienced ;  and  far  more  delightful 
would  it  be,  to  send  forth  the  joyous  spirit 
into  social  life  with  all  its  native  energies  un- 
checked. There  is  one  grateful  and  welcome 
thought,  however,  which  reconciles  the  task 
I  have  imposed  upon  myself.  It  is,  that  none 
of  these  energies  need  therefore  be  destroyed, 
or  deprived  of  natural  and  invigorating  exer- 
cise. There  are  home-societies,  and  little  cho- 
sen circlesof  tried  and  trusted  friends  ;  meet- 
ings, perhaps,  but  rarely  occurring,  or  only 
accidental,  among  those  who  speak  with  dif- 
ferent voices  the  warm  familiar  language  of 
one  heart ;  and  here  it  is  that  the  genuine 
feelings  of  unsophisticated  nature  may  safely 
be  poured  forth  ;  here  it  is  that  youth  may 
live,  and  breathe,  and  be  itself,  alike  without 
affectation,  and  without  reserve ;  here  it  is, 
that  the  spirit  of  joy  may  bound  and  revel 
unrestrained,  because  all  around  it  is  the  at- 
mosphere of  love,  and  the  clear  bright  radi- 
ance of  the  sunshine  of  truth. 

There  is  yet  another  flight  of  female  ambi- 
tion, another  course  which  the  love  of  distinc- 
tion is  apt  to  take,  more  productive  of  folly, 
and  of  disappointment,  perhaps,  than  all  the 
rest  It  is  the  ambition  of  the  female  author 
who  writes  for  fame.  Could  those  young 
aspirants  know  how  little  real  dignity  there  is 
connected  with  the  trade  of  authorship,  their 
harps  would  be  exchanged  for  distaffs,  their 
rose-tinted  paper  would  be  converted  into 
ashes,  and  their  Parnassus  would  dwindle  to 
a  molehill. 

Still  there  is  something  which  the  young 
heart  feels  in  being  shut  out  from  intellectual 
sympathies  at  home — something  in  burning 
and  throbbing  with  unexpressed  sensations, 
until  their  very  weight  and  intensity  become 
a  burden  not  to  be  endured  ;  something  in 
(he  strong  impulse  of  a  social  temperament, 
which  longs  to  pour  forth  its  testimony  to  the 
force  of  nature  and  of  truth  ;  something  in 


SOCIETY,  FASHION,  AND  LOVE  OF  DISTINCTION. 


79 


those  mysterious,  but  deep  convictions,  which 
belong  to  every  child  of  earth,  that  some- 
where on  this  peopled  globe,  beneath  the 
glow  of  sunnier  skies ;  or  on  the  frozen  plain, 
the  desert,  or  the  ocean ;  amidst  the  bowers 
of  beauty,  or  the  halls  of  pride  ;  within  the 
hermit's  cave,  the  woodman's  cot,  or  wan- 
dering with  the  flocks  upon  the  distant  hills  ; 
there  is — there  must  be,  some  human  or 
spiritual  intelligence,  whose  imaginations, 
powers,  and  feelings,  operate  in  concert  with 
our  own.  And  thus  we  feel,  and  thus  we 
write  in  youth,  without  any  higher  motive, 
because  within  our  homes,  tracing  our  daily 
walks,  or  mixing  with  the  circle  called  socie- 
ty, we  find  no  chord  of  sympathy  which 
answers  to  the  natural  music  of  our  secret 
souls. 

All  this,  however,  is  but  juvenile  romance. 
The  same  want  df  sympathy  which  so  often 
inspires  the  first  effort  of  female  authorship, 
might  often  find  a  swep-t  and  abundant  inter- 
change of  kindness  in  many  a  faithful  heart 
beside  the  homely  hearth.  And  after  all, 
there  is  more  true  poetry  in  the  fireside  affec- 
tions of  early  life,  than  in  all  those  sympa- 
thetic associations  with  unknown  and  untried 
developments  of  mind,  which  ever  have  ex- 
isted either  among  the  sons  or  the  daughters 
of  men. 

Taking  a  more  sober  view  of  the  case,  there 
are,  unquestionably,  subjects  of  deep  interest 
with  which  women  have  opportunities  pecu- 
liar to  themselves  of  becoming  acquainted 
and  thus  of  benefiting  their  fellow-creature; 
through  the  medium  of  their  writings.  But, 
after  all,  literature  is  not  the  natural  channe 
for  a  woman's  feelings ;  and  pity,  not  envy 
ought  to  be  the  meed  of  her  who  writes  for 
the  public.  How  much  of  what  with  other 
women  is  reserved  for  the  select  and  chosen 
intercourse  of  affection,  with  her  must  be  laid 
bare  to  the  coarse  cavillings,  and  coarse 
commendations,  of  amateur  or  professiona 
critics !  How  much  of  what  no  woman  loves 
to  say,  except  to  the  listening  ear  of  domestic 
affection,  by  her  must  be  told — nay,  blazonec 
to  the  world  !  And  then,  in  her  seasons  of 
depression,  or  of  wounded  feeling,  when  he 


spirit  yearns  to  sit  in  solitude,  or  even  in  dark^ 
less,  so  that  it  may  be  still ;  to  know  and  feel 
hat  the  very  essence  of  that  spirit,  now  em- 
)odied  in  a  palpable  form,  has  become  an  ar- 
ticle of  sale  and  bargain,  tossed  over  from  the 
lands  of  one  workman  to  another,  free  alike 
to  the  touch  of  the  prince  and  the  peasant, 
and  no  longer  to  be  reclaimed  at  will  by  the 
original  possessor,  let  the  world  receive  it  as  it 
may !  « 

Is  such,  I  ask,  an  enviable  distinction  ? 
will  offer  no  remarks  of  my  own  upon  the 
unsatisfactory  nature  of  literary  fame.  No 
man,  or  woman  either,  could  write  for  the 
public,  and  not  feel  thankful  for  public  appro- 
bation ;  thankful  for  having  chosen  a  subject 
generally  interesting  to  mank:nd,  and  thank- 
ful that  their  own  sentiments  had  met  with 
sympathy  from  those  for  whose  sake  they  had 
been  expressed.  But,  on  this  subject,  I  will 
quote  the  eloquent  language  of  one,*  who  bet- 
ter knew  what  contradictory  elements  exist 
in  a  young,  an  ardent,  and  an  affectionate 
heart,  combined  with  an  aspiring  and  com 
manding  intellect 

"  What  is  fame  to  woman,  but  a  dazzling 
degradation.     She  is  exposed  to  the  pitiles 
gaze  of  admiration  ;  but  little  respect,  and  no 
love,  blends  with  it.    However  much  as  an 
individual  she  may  have  gained  in  name,  it 
rank,  in  fortune,  she  has  suffered  as  a  woman 
In  the  history  of  letters,  she  may  be  associatei 
with  men,  but  her  own  sweet  life  is  lost ;  am 
though,  in  reality,  she  may  flow  through  th 
ocean  of  the  world,  maintaining  an  unsulliei 
current,  she  is  nevertheless   apparently  ab- 
sorbed, and  become  one  with  the  elements  o 
tumult  and  distraction.     She  is  a  reed  shakei 
with  the  wind ;  a  splendid  exotic,  nurture 
for  display  ;  an  ornament  only  to  be  worn  on 
birth-nights  and  festivities;  the  aloe,  whos 
blossom  is  deemed  fabulous,  because  few  can 
be  said  to  behold  it ;  she  is  the  Hebrew  whos 
songs  are    demanded  in  a  'strange  land; 
Ruth,   standing   amid  the   'alien   corn;'    a 
flower,  plunged  beneath  a  petrifying  spring 
her  affections  are  the  dew  that  society  ex 


Miss  Jewsbury. 


HI 


THE  DAUGHTERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


hales,  but  gives  not  back  to  her  in  rain  ;  she 
is  a  jewelled  captive,  bright,  and  desolate, 
and  sad !" 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

GRATITUDE   AND   AFFECTION. 

As  one  who  has  been  conducting  an  inex- 
perienced traveller  through  an  enemy's  coun- 
try, joyfully  enters  with  him  upon  the  territory 
of  a  well-known  and  familiar  friend ;  so  the 
writer,  whose  stern  duty  it  has  been  to  dis- 
close the  dangers  and  deceitfulness  of  the 
world  to  the  unpractised  eye  of  youth,  de- 
lights to  open  to  it  that  page  of  human  life, 
which  develops  all  that  is  most  congenial  to 
unsophisticated  nature.  And  can  any  thing 
be  more  so  to  woman,  than  gratitude  and  af- 
fection 7  How  much  of  her  experience — 
of  the  deepest  well-springs  of  her  feeling — of 
those  joys  peculiar  to  herself,  and  with  .which 
no  stranger  can  intermeddle — are  embodied 
in  these  two  words ! 

If  our  sense  of  obligation  in  general  bears 
any  proportion  to  our  need  of  kindness,  then 
has  woman,  above  all  created  beings,  the 
greatest  cause  for  gratitude.  The  spirit  of 
man,  even  in  early  life,  bears  a  widely  differ- 
ent impress  from  that  of  woman.  The  high- 
spirited  and  reckless  boy  flings  from  him  half 
the  little  grievances  which  hang  about  the 
girl,  and  check  her  infant  playfulness,  send- 
ing her  home  to  tell  her  tale  of  sorrow,  or  to 
weep  away  her  griefs  upon  her  mother's  bo- 
som. There  is  scarcely  a  more  affecting 
sight  presented  by  the  varied  scenes  of  hu- 
man life,  than  a  motherless  or  neglected  little 
girl ;  yet  so  strong  is  the  feeling  her  situation 
inspires,  that  happily  few  are  thus  circum- 
stanced, without  some  one  being  found  to 
care  for  and  protect  them.  It  is  true,  the  lot 
of  woman  has  trials  enough  peculiar  to  itself 
and  the  look  of  premature  sedateness  and 
anxiety,  which  sometimes  hangs  upon  the 
brow  of  the  little  girl,  might  seem  to  be  the 
shadowing  forth  of  some  vague  apprehensions 


as  to  the  nature  of  her  future  destiny.  These 
trials,  however,  seldom  arise  out  of  unkind- 
ness  or  neglect  in  her  childhood.  The  voice 
of  humanity  would  be  raised  against  such 
treatment ;  for  what  living  creature  is  so  help- 
less and  inoffensive  as  a  little  girl]  The 
voice  of  humanity,  therefore,  almost  univer- 
sally speaks  kindly  to  her  in  early  life.  The 
father  folds  her  tenderly  in  his  arms,  toils  for 
her  subsistence  and  comfort,  and  watches 
over  her  expanding  beauty,  that  he  may  shield 
it  from  all  blight  The  mother's  heart  yearns 
fondly  as  she,  too,  watches  with  more  intense 
anxiety,  lest  a  shadow  should  fall,  or  a  rude 
wind  should  blow,  upon  her  opening  flower. 
Thus,  while  the  sons  in  a  family  may  perhaps 
call  forth  more  of  the  pride  and  the  ambition 
of  their  parents,  the  daughters  claim  almost  all 
the  tenderness,  and  more  than  an  equal  por- 
tion of  watchfulness  and  care. 

And  can  the  object  of  so  much  solicitude 
be  otherwise  than  grateful  1  Oh,  no.  It  may 
be  more  consonant  with  the  nature  and  with 
the  avocations  of  man,  that  he  should  go  forth 
into  the  world  forgetful  of  these  things ;  but 
woman,  in  the  quiet  brooding  of  her  secret 
thoughts — can  she  forget,  how,  in  the  days 
of  helpless  infancy,  she  was  accustomed  to 
escape  from  the  rude  gaze,  or  harsh  rebuke, 
to  find  a  never-failing  refuge  on  her  father's 
knee ;  how  every  wish  and  want  was  whis- 
pered to  her  mother's  ear,  which  never  turn- 
ed away ;  how  all  things  appropriated  to  her 
use,  were  studiously  made  so  safe,  so  easy, 
so  suited  to  her  taste — her  couch  of  rest,  her 
favorite  meal,  her  fairy-world  of  toys — all 
these  arranged  according  to  her  fancy,  or  her 
good  ;  until,  all  helpless,  and  feeble,  and  de- 
pendant as  she  was,  no  fear  could  break  the 
charm  of  he"r  security,  nor  sorrow,  save  what 
originated  in  her  own  bosom,  could  cast  a 
shadow  over  the  fireside  pleasures  of  her 
sunny  home? 

"  No ;  woman  is  not — cannot  be  ungrate- 
ful," exclaim  a  thousand  sweet  voices  at 
once  !  Gratitude  forms  a  part  of  her  nature, 
and  without  it  she  would  be  unworthy  of  a 
name  among  her*eex!  I  freely  grant  that 
gratitude  is  a  part  of  her  nature,  because 


GRATITUDE  AND  AFFECTION. 


there  can  be  no  generous  or  noble  character, 
where  gratitude  is  wanting.  But  I  am  not 
so  sure  that  it  is  always  directed  to  proper 
objects. 

Young  women  are  almost  always  grateful 
for  the  notice  of  ladies  of  distinction ;  they 
are  grateful  for  being  taken  out  in  carriages, 
when  they  have  none  at  home ;  they  are 
grateful  for  presents  of  ornaments,  or  articles 
of  fashionable  clothing  which  they  cannot  af- 
ford to  buy  ;  they  are  grateful  for  being  invi- 
ted out  to  pleasant  parties  :  and,  indeed,  for 
what  may  they  not  be  said  to  be  grateful — 
extremely  grateful  ?  but  especially  so,  for  acts 
of  kindness  from  strangers,  or  from  persons 
occupying  a  higher  station  than  themselves. 

There  is  a  familiar  saying,  that  charity  be- 
gins at  home  ;  and  if  by  home  is  meant  the 
circle   immediately    surrounding    ourselves, 
surely  gratitude  ought  also  most  especially  to 
begin  at  home,  and  for  this  simple  reason — 
strangers  may  know,  or  imagine  us  to  have 
great  merits  ;  but  with  our  demerits,  or  per- 
haps I  ought  rather  to  say,  with  that  part  of 
our  character  which  comes  under  the  head 
of  disagreeableness,  they  must  necessarily  be 
unacquainted,  because  no  one  chooses  to  be 
disagreeable  to  strangers.     Against  them,  too 
we  have  never  offended,  either  by  wor'd  o 
act,  so  that  they  can  have  nothing  to  forgive 
But  it  is  not  so  at  home.  All  our  evil  temper 
and  dispositions  have  been  exhibited  there 
and  consequently  the  kindness  received  a 
home  is  the  more  generous.     There  is  no  on 
member  of  the  family  circle  against  whon 
we  have  not,  at  one  time  or  another,  offend 
ed,  and  consequently  we  owe  them  a  double 
share  of  gratitude,  for  having  kindly  over 
looked  the  past,  and  for  receiving  us  as  cor 
dially  to  their  favor  as  if  we  had  never  co 
them  an  uneasy  thought.     It  is  nothing,  in 
comparison,  to  win  the  good-will  of  strangers 
The  bare  thought  of  how  soon  that  good-wi 
might  be  withdrawn,  did  they  know  us  better 
is  sufficient  of  itself  to  pain  a  generous  mine 
But  it  is  much  to  continue  daily  and  hourl 
to  receive  the  kind  attentions,  the  forbearanc 
and  the  love  of  those  who  know  our  meanes 
faults,  who  see  us  as  we  really  are,  who  hav 


6 


x>rne  with  us  in  all  our  different  moods  for 
nonths  and  years,  whom  our  unkindness 
ould  not  estrange,  whom  our  indifference 
:ould  not  alienate,  whom  our  unworthiness 
x>uld  not  repel — it  is,  indeed,  much  to  be  still 
bllowed  by  their  affection,  to  be  protected  by 
heir  anxious  care,  and  to  be  supported  by 
heir  unremitting  industry  and  toil.  Yes,  and 
there  may  come  a  day  when  the  young  in 
their  turn  will  feel 

"  How  sharper  than  a  serpent's  tooth  it  is 
To  have  a  thankless  child  :" 

when  they  will  see  the  shiile  of  gratitude 
which  ought  to  be  their  own,  worn  only  for 
strangers,  they  will  think  then  of  the  days  of 
unmurmuring  labor — the  nights  of  untiring 
watchfulness — the  ages  of  thought  and  feel- 
ing they  have  lived  through,  and  would  will- 
ingly experience  again — the  suffering  and 
the  shame  they  would  endure,  if  that  were 
necessary,  for  the  sake  of  the  beloved  of  their 
souls ;  and  they  will  wonder — for  to  blame, 
they  will  scarce  know  how — why  nature 
should  have  left  the  heart  of  their  child  so 
void,  that  for  all  they  have  so  lavishly  bestow- 
ed they  should  receive  nothing  in  return. 

If  gratitude  were  looked  upon  more  than 
it  is,  as  a  distinct  duty — a  debt  to  be  dis- 
charged without  involving  any  other  pay- 
ment, I  am  inclined  to  think  its  claims  wouU 
be  more  frequently  attended  to,  than  they  now 
are.    But  few  young  persons  are  in  the  habi 
of  sufficiently  separating  gratitude  from  ad 
miration,   and    thus  they  hold    themselves 
above  being  grateful  in  due  proportion  to  th 
aged,  the  unenlightened,  or  the  insignificant 
because  they  do  not  often  feel  disposed  to 
offer  to  such  persons  the  tribute  of  their  praise 
Perhaps  they  are  a  little  ashamed  to  havi 
owed  any  thing  to  so  inferior  a  source  ;  while,  i 
on  the  other  hand,  they  are  but  too  proud  to 
acknowledge  that  they  are  deeply  indebted 
to  those  whom  they  admire. 

Now,  it  is  against  such  encroachments  of 
vanity  and  selfishness,  that  the  amiable  and 
the  high-principled  are  perpetually  on  their 
guard.  That  gratitude  will  not  grow  up  with 
us  without  culture,  is  sufficiently  evident  from 


99 


THE  DAUGHTERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


the  indifference  with  which  all  young  children 
treat  the  donors  of  their  little  gifts;  receiving 
them  rather  as  their  right,  than  as  a  favor. 
It  is,  therefore,  an  excellent  habit  for  young 
people,  lo  bear  perpetually  in  mind  a  sort  of 
memorial,  or  catalogue,  of  the  names  of  those 
by  whom  every  article  of  their  own  personal 
property  was  given,  so  that  even  the  most 
insignificant  individual  to  whom  they  have 
been  thus  indebted,  may  not  be  forgotten. 

"  I  am  naturally,"  says  a  celebrated  Ger- 
man writer,  "  as  little  inclined  to  gratitude 
as  any  one  ;  and  it  would  even  be  easy  for 
the  lively  sense  of  a  present  dissatisfaction  to 
lead  me  first  to  forget  a  benefit,  and  next  to 
ingratitude.  In  order  to  avoid  falling  into 
this  error,  I  early  accustomed  myself  to  take 
pleasure  in  reckoning  up  all  I  possessed,  and 
ascertaining  by  whose  means  I  acquired  it 
I  think  on  the  persons  to  whom  I  am  indebt- 
ed for  the  different  articles  in  my  collections ; 
I  reflect  on  the  circumstances,  chances,  and 
most  remote  causes,  owing  to  which  I  have 
obtained  the  variors  things  I  prize,  in  order 
to  pay  my  tribute  of  gratitude  to  whomso- 
ever it  is  owing.  All  that  surrounds  me  is 
thus  animated  in  my  sight,  and  becomes  con- 
nected with  affectionate  remembrances.  It 
is  with  still  greater  pleasure  that  I  dwell  on 
the  objects,  the  possession  of  which  does  not 
fall  within  the  dominion  of  the  senses,;  such 
as  the  sentiments  I  have  imbibed,  and  the 
instruction  I  have  received.  Thus  my  pres- 
ent existence  is  exalted  and  enriched  by  the 
memory  of  the  past ;  my  imagination  recalls 
to  my  heart  the  authors  of  the  good  I  enjoy ; 
a  sweet  reminiscence  attends  the  recollection, 
and  I  am  rendered  incapable  of  ingratitude." 

How  beautiful  is  the  simplicity  of  this  con- 
fession, from  one  whose  mind  was  capacious 
beyond  the  ordinary  extent  of  man's  under- 
standing, and  to  whose  genius  the  literary 
and  the  distinguished  of  alj  nations  were 
proud  to  offer  the  tribute  of  their  praise  ! 
How  completely  does  this  passage  prove  to 
us,  that  he  who  knew  so  many  of  the  secrets 
of*  human  nature,"  knew  also  that  it  is  not 
possible  to  begin  too  humbly  with  the  ex- 
ercise of  gratitude  !  The  nurse  who  bore  the 


burden  of  our  childhood,  the  old  servant  fallen 
into  poverty  and  want,  the  neighboring  cot- 
tager who  used  to  let  us  share  her  orchard's 
scanty  produce,  the  poor  relations  who  took 
us  to  their  lowly  home  when  rich  ones  were 
less  kind,  the  maiden  aunt  who  patiently  in- 
structed us  in  all  her  curious  arts,  the  bache- 
lor uncle  who  kindly  permitted  us  to  derange 
the  order  of  his  house — above  all,  the  vener- 
able grandfather,  and  his  aged  helpmate,  who 
used  to  tell  us  of  the  good  old  ways,  and 
warn  us  against  breaking  down  the  ancient 
landmarks — all  these  are  pleasant  household 
memories,  which  ought  to  cling  about  the 
heart  until  they  grow  into  our  very  being,  and 
become  identified  with  the  elements  of  thought, 
and  feeling,  which  constitute  our  life.  There 
is  in  fact  a  species  of  cruelty,  as  well  as  in- 
justice, in  disentangling  the  memory  from 
these  early  associations.  To  have  received 
our  very  nature,  our  principles,  the  bias  of 
our  sentiments,  all  that  which  is  understood 
by  distinctiveness  of  character,  from  the 
hands  of  these  old  friends,  and  not  to  look 
back  and  acknowledge  it  with  thankfulness, 
though  the  casual  notice  of  a  passing  stran- 
ger furnishes  food  for  gratitude — the  fact  is 
scarcely  to  be  thought  of,  still  less  believed ; 
and  we  look  to  the  daughters  of  England  to 
^how  us  that  they  know  better  how  to  bestow 
their  gratitude. 

When  the  nature  of  gratitude  is  considered 
in  its  proper  light,  as  a  debt  which  we  have 
contracted,  and  which  consequently  must  be 
discharged,  we  see  at  once  that  the  merit  or 
demerit  of  the  individual  to  whom  we  owe 
this  debt,  has  nothing  whatever  to  do  with 
our  payment  of  it  A  generous  mind  would 
perhaps  feel  more  bound  to  discharge  it  to  an 
unworthy  object,  simply  because  where  re- 
spect or  love  was  wanting,  grateful  feeling 
would  be  all  that  could  with  propriety  be  of- 
fered. But,  as  in  all  such  cases,  the  debt, 
though  just,  must  still  be  painful  and  humili- 
ating, it  is  of  the  utmost  importance,  both  to 
young  and  old,  that  they  should  be  careful 
never  to  be  the  willing  recipients  of  obliga- 
tions from  persons  whom  they  neither  love 
nor  esteem.  The  young  need  great  watch- 


GRATITUDE  AND  AFFECTION. 


83 


fulness  in  this  respect,  and  sometimes,  from 
their  over-willingness  to  incur  obligations, 
involve  themselves  in  connections  and  asso- 
ciations highly  disadvantageous. 

It  is  an  excellent  plan  for  young  women, 
always  to  put  this  question  to  themselves  be- 
fore they  accept  an  offered  kindness.  "Is 
the  person  who  offers  it,  one  whom  I  should 
like  to  feel  indebted  to  !  or  am  I  prepared  to 
make  all  the  return  of  gratitude  to  that  per- 
son, which  would,  under  similar  circum- 
stances, be  due  to  the  most  praiseworthy  and 
distinguished  individual  of  my  acquaint- 
ance1!" If  the  answer  be  in  the  negative, 
nothing  but  a  meanness  of  spirit,  of  which  I 
cannot  believe  the  daughters  of  England  to 
be  capable,  could  lead  to  the  acceptance  of 
such  an  obligation. 

In  this,  therefore,  as  well  as  in  all  other 
cases,  it  is  of  the  utmost  importance  that 
gratitude  should  be  considered  as  a  distinct 
feeling,  in  no  way  involving  any  other.  It 
sometimes  happens,  however,  and  especially 
during  the  present  rapid  march  of  intellect, 
that  the  junior  members  of  a  family  are  far 
in  advance  of  their  parents  in  the  cultivation 
of  their  intellectual  powers,  and  this  differ- 
ence occasionally  leads  to  a  want  of  respect 
towards  the  heads  of  the  family,  which  is 
alike  distressing  and  disgraceful.  On  the 
other  hand,  there  are  young  women,  (and 
happy  would  it  be  for  our  nation,  if  all  the 
daughters  of  England  were  such,)  who,  re- 
membering that  their  parents,  however  hum- 
ble and  unenlightened,  are  their  parents  still ; 
that  by  their  self-denial  and  their  toil,  and  as 
the  highest  proof  of  their  regard,  they  have 
received  the  education  which  makes  them  so 
much  to  differ — make  it  their  constant  study 
to  offer  to  them  tokens  of  respect  and  regard 
of  such  a  nature  as  not  to  draw  forth  their 
intellectual  deficiencies,  but  to  place  them 
on  the  higher  ground  of  moral  excellence. 
How  beautiful,  how  touching  is  the  solicitude 
of  such  young  persons,  to  guard  the  venera- 
ted brow  from  shame  ;  and  to  sacrifice  even 
something  of  the  display  of  their  own  en- 
dowments, rather  than  outshine  those  who, 
with  all  their  deficiencies,  still  were  the  ora- 


cles of  their  infant  years,  and  who  unques- 
tionably did  more  during  the  season  of  child- 
hood, towards  the  formation  of  their  real 
character,  than  has  since  been  done  by 
the  merely  intellectual  discipline  of  schools. 
Yes,  we  may  owe  our  grammar,  our  geogra- 
phy, our  music,  and  our  painting,  to  what 
are  called  the  instructors  of  our  youth  ;  but 
the  seeds  of  moral  character  are  sown  by 
those  who  surround  us  in  infancy  ;  and  how 
much  soever  we  may  despise  the  hand  by 
which  that  seed  is  scattered,  the  bias  of  our 
moral  being  is  derived  from  that  agent  more 
than  from  any  other. 

How  just,  then,  and  how  true,  is  that  de- 
velopment of  youthful  gratitude  which  looks 
back  to  these  early  days,  and  seeks  to  return 
into  the  bosom  of  parental  love,  the  treasures 
of  that  harvest  which  parental  love  has  sown ! 

And  it  is  meet  that  youth  should  do  this — 
youth,  whose  very  nature  it  is  to  be  redun- 
dant with  the  rills  of  life,  and  fruitful  in  joy, 
and  redolent  in  bloom,  from  the  perpetual 
flowing  forth  of  its  own  glad  waters — youth, 
which  is  so  rich  in  all  that  gladdens  and  ex- 
hilarates ;  how  can  it  be  penurious  and  nig- 
gardly in  giving  out  ]  No,  nature  has  been 
so  munificent  to  youth,  it  cannot  ^et  have 
learned  the  art  of  grudging  ;  and  gratitude, 
the  most  liberal,  the  most  blessed  of  all  hu- 
man feelings,  was  first  required  of  us  as  a 
debt,  that  we  might  go  on  paying  according 
to  our  measure,  through  all  the  different  sta- 
ges of  existence ;  and  though  we  may  never 
have  had  money  or  rich  gifts,  the  poorest 
among  us  has  been  able  to  pay  in  kindness, 
and  sometimes  in  love. 

In  the  cultivation  and  exercise  of  the  be- 
nevolent feelings  of  our  nature,  there  is  this 
beautiful  feature  to  be  observed  in  the  order 
of  divine  providence — that  expenditure  never 
exhausts.  Thus  the  indulgence  of  gratitude, 
and  the  bestowment  of  affection,  instead  of 
impoverishing,  render  more  rich  the  fountain 
whence  both  are  derived  ;  while,  on  the  other 
hand,  the  habit  of  withholding  our  generous 
affections,  produces  the  certain  effect  of 
checking  their  growth,  and  diminishing  the 
spontaneous  effusion  of  kindness. 


84 


THE  DAUGHTERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


The  habit  of  encouraging  feelings  of  grati- 
tude towards  our  fellow-creatures,  of  recall- 
ing their  friendly  and  benevolent  offices  to- 
wards ourselves,  of  thinking  what  would 
have  been  our  situation  without  them,  and, 
in  short,  of  reckoning  up  the  items  of  the 
great  debt  we  all  have  incurred,  especially  in 
infancy  and  youth,  has  a  most  beneficial  effect 
upon  the  mind,  in  the  bias  it  gives  towards 
the  feeling  and  expression  of  gratitude  in 
general,  not  only  as  confined  to  the  inter- 
course of  social  life,  or  the  interchange  of 
kindness  among  our  fellow-creatures,  but 
with  regard  to  the  higher  obligations  of  grati- 
tude, which  every  child  of  sin  and  sorrow 
must  feel,  on  being  admitted  to  participation 
in  the  promises  of  the  gospel,  and  the  glori- 
ous hopes  which  the  gospel  was  sent  to  in- 
spire. 

I  have  said,  that  women,  above  all  created 
beings,  have  cause  for  gratitude.  Deprived 
of  the  benefits  of  the  Christian  dispensation, 
woman  has  ever  been,  and  will  be  ever  the 
most  abject,  and  the  most  degraded  of  crea- 
tures, oppressed  in  proportion  to  her  weak- 
ness, and  miserable  in  proportion  to  her  capa- 
bility of  suffering.  Yet,  under  the  Christian 
dispensation,  she  who  was  the  first  in  sin,  is 
raised  to  an  equality  with  man,  and  made 
his  fellow-heir  in  the  blessings  of  eternal  life. 
Nor  is  this  all.  A  dispensation  which  had 
permitted  her  merely  to  creep,  and  grovel 
through  this  life,  so  as  to  purchase  by  her 
patient  sufferings  a  title  to  the  next,  would 
have  been  unworthy  of  that  law  of  love  by 
which  pardon  was  offered  to  a  guilty  world. 
In  accordance  with  the  ineffable  benevolence 
of  this  law,  woman  was  therefore  raised  to  a 
moral,  as  well  as  a  spiritual  equality  with 
man  ;  and  from  being  first  his  tempter,  and 
then  his  slave,  she  has  become  his  helpmate, 
his  counsellor,  his  friend,  the  object  of  his 
most  affectionate  solicitude,  the  sharer  of  his 
dignity,  and  the  partaker  in  his  highest  enjoy- 
ments. 

When  we  compare  the  situation  of  wo- 
man, too,  in  our  privileged  land,  with  what  it 
is  even  now  in  countries  where  the  Christian 
religion  less  universally  prevails,  we  cannot 


help  exclaiming,  that  of  all  women  upon 
earth,  those  who  live  under  the  salutary  in- 
fluence of  British  laws  and  British  institu- 
tion?, have  the  deepest  cause  for  gratitude. 
And  can  the  daughters  of  Britain  be  regard- 
less of  these  considerations  1  Will  they  not 
rather  study  how  to  pay  back  to  their  coun- 
try, in  the  cultivation  and  exercise  of  their 
best  feelings,  the  innumerable  advantages 
they  are  thus  deriving.  And  what  is  the 
sacrifice  7  Oh,  blessed  dispensation  of  love  ! 
— that  we  are  never  so  happy  as  when  feel- 
ing grateful,  and  never  so  well  employed,  as 
when  acting  upon  this  feeling ! 

While,  then,  they  begin  first  by  retracing 
all  the  little  rills  of  kindness  by  which  their 
cup  of  benefit  has  been  filled,  let  them  not 
pause  in  thought,  until  they  have  counted  up 
every  item  of  that  vast  catalogue  of  blessings 
which  extend  from  human  instrumentality,  to 
divine ;  nor  let  them  pause  in  action,  until 
they  have  rendered  every  return  which  it  is 
possible  for  a  finite  being,  aided  by  watchful- 
ness and  prayer,  to  make. 

What  a  subject  for  contemplation  does  this 
view  of  gratitude  afford,  to  those  who  say 
they  find  nothing  to  interest  them  in  human 
life  !  What  a  field  of  exercise  for  those  who 
complain  that  they  find  nothing  to  do  ! 

Affection,  too,  is  a  subject  in  which  the  in- 
terests of  woman  are  deeply  involved,  be- 
cause affection  in  a  peculiar  manner  consti- 
tutes her  wealth.  Beyond  the  sphere  of  her 
affections,  she  has  nothing,  and  is  nothing. 
Let  her  talents  be  what  they  may,  without  af- 
fection they  can  only  be  compared  to  a  splen- 
did casket,  where  the  gem  is  wanting.  Af- 
fection, like  gratitude,  must  begin  at  home. 
Let  no  man  choose  for  the  wife  of  his  bosom, 
a  woman  whose  affections  are  not  warm,  and 
cordial,  and  ever  flowing  forth  at  her  own 
fireside.  Yet  there  are  young  women  whose 
behavior  in  society,  and  among  those  whom 
they  call  their  friend?,  exhibits  every  sign  of 
genuine  affection,  who  are  yet  cold,  indiffer- 
ent, and  inconsiderate  to  their  brotht 
ters,  and  parents.  These  are  the  women 
against  whom  men  ought  to  be  especially 
warned,  for  sure  I  am,  that  such  affection 


GRATITUDE  AND  AFFECTION. 


85 


ought  never  to  be  trusted  to,  as  that  which 
is  only  called  into  life  by  the  sunshine  of  so- 
ciety, or  the  excitement  of  transient  inter- 
course with  comparative  strangers. 

Affection  also  resembles  gratitude  in  this, 
that  the  more  we  bestow,  the  more  we  feel, 
provided  only  it  is  bestowed  upon  safe  and 
suitable  objects.  It  is  the  lavish  and  reckless 
expenditure  of  this  treasure  in  early  life,  and 
simply  under  the  direction  of  fancy,  without 
regard  to  natural  claims,  which  so  often  leaves 
the  heart  of  its  possessor  poor,  and  cold,  and 
joyless. 

Here,  then,  the  claims  of  nature  and  of 
home  may  always  be  attended  to  with  safety. 
No  young  girl  can  be  too  affectionate  at  home, 
because  the  demerits  of  a  brother,  a  sister,  or 
a  parent,  except  in  some  rare  and  peculiar 
instances,  constitute  no  disqualification  for  be- 
ing the  recipients  either  of  her  gratitude  or 
her  affection.  But  her  approval  and  her  ad- 
miration must  still  be  kept  distinct,  lest  her 
affection  for  an  unworthy  relative  should  ren- 
der her  insensible  to  the  exact  line  of  demar- 
cation between  moral  good  and  evil.  Were 
it  not  thus  wisely  and  mercifully  permitted  us 
to  continue  to  love  our  nearest  connections, 
even  when  not  deserving  of  general  esteem, 
where  would  the  prodigal,  or  the  outcast,  be 
able  to  find  a  shelter,  when  the  horrors  of  a 
wounded  conscience  might  drive  them  back 
from  the  ways  of  guilt  1  The  mother's  heart 
is  subject  to  a  higher,  holier  law  than  that 
which  separates  her  erring  child  from  the  fel- 
lowship of  mankind  ;  the  father  meets  his  re- 
turning son  while  yet  afar  off;  and  the  sister 
—can  she  withhold  her  welcome  ? — can  she 
neglect  the  study  of  all  those  little  arts  of  love, 
by  which  a  father's  home  may  be  rendered  as 
alluring  as  the  world  7  • 

While  the  young  of  both  sexes  are  suffer- 
ing from  the  consequences  of  a  system  of  ed- 
ucation, under  which  the  cultivation  of  moral 
principle  bears  no  proportion  to  the  cultiva- 
tion of  the  intellectual  powers,  it  is  desirable 
to  offer  all  the  assistance  we  can  in  the  im- 
provement of  that  portion  of  human  charac- 
ter which  is  at  once  the  most  important  and 
the  most  neglected.  In  order  to  strengthen 


the  good  resolutions  of  those  who  are  really 
desirous  of  paying  the  attention  and  the  re- 
spect to  old  age  which  is  justly  its  due,  I  would 
suggest  to  the  accomplished  young  reader,  an 
idea  which  it  is  highly  probable  may  never 
before  have  crossed  her  mind,  but  which  I 
feel  assured  will  stain  her  cheek  with  shame, 
if  she  has  ever  allowed  herself  to  treat  her  pa- 
rents, or  even  her  grand-parents  with  con- 
tempt, as  inferior  in  the  scale  of  consideration 
to  herself,  because  of  their  want  of  mental 
cultivation. 

Let  her  remember,  then,  whatever  their  de- 
ficiency in  other  points  of  wisdom  may  be, 
that  there  is  one  in  which  they  must  be  her 
superiors.  She  may  occasionally  be  obliged 
to  correcT  their  grammatical  inaccuracies ; 
she  may  be  able  not  only  to  dazzle  them  with 
her  accomplishments,  but  even  to  baffle  them 
in  argument ;  yet  there  is  one  fundamental 
part  of  true  knowledge,  in  consideration  of 
which,  every  youthful  head  must  bow  to  age. 
Not  ten  thousand  times  the  sum  of  money 
expended  on  your  education  would  be  suffi- 
cient to  purchase  this  treasure  of  human  wis- 
dom for  you.  And  there  sits  the  aged  wo- 
man, with  her  white  locks,  and  her  feeble 
hands,  a  by-word,  and  perhaps  a  jest,  from 
the  very  helplessness  of  worn-out  nature ;  yet, 
all  the  while,  this  humble  and  neglected  being 
may  be  rich  in  the  wealth  which  princes  are 
too  poor  to  buy  ;  for  she  is  rich  in  experience, 
and  that  is  where  you  are  poor.  The  simple 
being  you  despise  has  lived  to  see  the  work- 
ing out  of  many  systems,  the  end  of  many 
beginnings,  the  detection  of  much  falsehood, 
the  development  of  much  truth ;  in  short, 
the  operation  of  principles  upon  the  lives  and 
conduct  of  men  ;  and  here,  in  this  most  im- 
portant point  of  wisdom,  you  are — you  must 
be  her  inferior. 

The  wisdom  of  experience,  independently 
of  every  other  consideration,  presents  a  strong 
claim  upon  the  respectful  attention  of  youth, 
in  cases  where  propriety  of  conduct  is  a  dis- 
puted point  between  parent  and  child.  Young 
persons  sometimes  think  their  parents  too  se- 
vere in  the  instructions  they  would  enforce  ; 
but  let  it  ever  be  remembered,  that  those  pa- 


THE  DAUGHTERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


rents  have  experience  to  direct  them  ;  and 
that,  while  the  child  is  influenced  only  by  in- 
clination, or  opinion,  founded  upon  what 
must  at  least  be  a  very  limited  and  superfi- 
cial knowledge  of  things  in  general,  the  opin- 
ion of  the  parent  is  founded  upon  facts, 
which  have  occurred  during  a  far  longer  ac- 
quaintance with  human  nature,  and  with 
what  is  called  the  world. 

Let  the  experience  of  the  aged,  then,  be 
weighed  against  your  modern  acquirements, 
and  even  without  the  exercise  of  natural  af- 
fection, we  find  that  they  are  richly  entitled 
to  your  respectful  attention.  But  there  is 
something  beyond  this  consideration  in  the 
overflowing  of  the  warm  and  buoyant  feel- 
igs  of  youth,  which  so  naturally  ami  so  beau- 
tifully supply  the  requirements  of  old  age,  that 
scarcely  can  we  picture  to  ourselves  a  situa- 
tion more  congenial  to  the  daughters  of  Eng- 
land, than  one  of  those  fireside  scenes,  where 
venerated  age  is  treated  with  the  gratitude 
and  affection  which  ought  ever  to  be  consid- 
ered as  its  due. 

It  sometimes  happens  that  the  cares  and 
the  anxieties  of  parental  love  have  a  second 
time  to  be  endured  by  those  who  have  had  to 
mourn  the  loss  of  their  immediate  offspring. 
Perhaps  a  family  of  orphan  sons  and  daugh- 
ters have  become  their  charge,  at  a  time  oi 
life  when  they  had  but  little  strength  of  body, 
or  buoyancy  of  spirit,  to  encounter  the  turbu- 
lence of  childhood,  and  the  waywardness  o1 
youth.  How  admirably,  then,  are  the  char- 
acter and  the  constitution  of  woman  adapted 
to  the  part  which  it  becomes  her  duty  and 
her  privilege  to  act.  Even  the  kindest  among 
boys  would  scarcely  know  how  to  accommo- 
date himself  to  the  peculiarities  of  old  age 
But  woman  has  an  intuitive  perception  o 
these  things  ;  and  the  little  playful  girl  can  be 
gentle  and  still,  the  moment  she  sees  that  her 
restlessness  or  loud  mirth  would  offend. 

And  what  woman,  I  would  ask,  was  ever 
less  estimable  for  this  early  exercise  of  self 
discipline  1  None  can  begin  too  soon.  The 
labor  of  love  is  never  difficult,  except  to  thosi 
who  have  put  off  compliance  with  this  sacre( 
duty  until  too  late  in  life ;  or  who,  while  th 


flections  of  the  heart  were  young  and  warm, 
lave  centred  them  in  self,  and  lived  for  self 
alone.  The  social  scenes  upon  which  imagi- 
nation loves  to  dwell,  are  those  where  self 
las  never  found  a  place  among  the  house- 
lold  gods.  They  are  those  where  the  daugh- 
ers  of  a  family,  from  the  oldest  to  the  very 
nfant,  are  all  too  happy  in  the  exercise  of 
their  affections,  to  think  of  self.  Theirs  is  a 
relative  existence,  and  their  enjoyments  con- 
sist more  in  giving  than  receiving.  Affec- 
tions thus  cherished  in  the'  cordial  intercourse 
of  home,  may  early  be  sent  forth  on  errands 
of  kindness  to  all  who  are  fortunate  enough 
to  come  within  the  sphere  of  their  opera- 
tions ;  and  happy  is  the  man  who  chooses 
from  such  a  family  the  companion  of  his 
earthly  lot ! 


CHAPTER  IX. 

FRIENDSHIP   AND  FLOTATION. 

How  much  of  what  is  most  lovely,  and 
most  valuable  to  us  in  the  course  of  our 
earthly  experience,  arises  out  of  the  poverty 
and  the  feebleness  of  our  nature.  Friend- 
ship would  never  have  existed,  but  for  the 
absolute  want  of  the  human  heart,  from  its 
utter  inability  to  perform  the  functions  of  life 
without  a  participator  in  its  joys,  a  recipient 
of  its  secrets,  and  a  soother  of  its  sorrows. 

Youth  is  the  season  when  we  most  feel  this 
want ;  later  in  life,  we  learn  as  it  were  to 
stand  alone.  Interests  and  claims,  which 
have  little  to  do  with  the  affections,  press  up- 
on us  on  every  hand,  and  hem  us  into  a  nar- 
row and  accustomed  path,  from  which  there 
is  little  temptation  to  deviate.  But  in  youth 
we  seem  to  walk  at  large,  with  no  boundary 
to  our  horizon  ;  and  the  fear  and  uncertain- 
ty which  necessarily  attend  our  movements, 
render  a  companion,  with  whom  we  may  con- 
sult, deliberate,  and  sympathize,  absolutely 
necessary  to  our  cheerfulness  and  support. 

It  is  a  subject  of  surprise  to  many,  that  the 
young  so  seldom  enter  into  close  and  intimate 


FRIENDSHIP  AND  FLIRTATION. 


87 


friendship  with  the  members  of  their  own 
family.  Were  this  more  frequently  the  case, 
how  much  more  candor  and  simplicity  of 
heart  would  mingle  with  the  intercourse  of 
friends !  To  the  members  of  our  own  fami- 
ly, we  must  of  necessity  appear  as  we  really 
are.  No  false  or  flattering  aspect  can  de- 
ceive those  whose  eyes  are  constantly  upon 
our  conduct ;  and  we  are  consequently  less 
tempted  to  put  forward  our  best  feelings  before 
them,  in  the  hope  of  concealing  our  worst. 
In  such  intimacies  the  nearest  friends  have 
the  least  suspicion  of  each  other's  truth.  Af- 
ter-circumstances can  bring  forth  no  unex- 
pected development  of  character  on  either 
side ;  nor  can  there  be  the  wounded  feeling, 
which  falsehood,  however  unpremeditated  or 
unconsciously  practised,  never  fails  to  pro- 
duce. Again,  there  would  be  the  strength  of 
natural  ties  to  mingle  with  this  bond  the  rec- 
ollections of  childhood,  the  oft-repeated  for- 
giveness, the  gratitude  to  which  allusion  has 
already  been  made — all  these  would  blend  to- 
gether in  a  union  the  most  sacred,  and  the 
most  secure,  which  perhaps  is  ever  found  on 
earth. 

Nor  do  I  scruple  to  call  this  union  the  most 
secure,  because  it  is  the  only  intimacy  in 
which  every  thing  can  with  propriety  be  told. 
There  are  private  histories  belonging  to  every 
fanyly,  which,  though  they  operate  powerful- 
ly upon  individual  happiness,  ought  never  to 
be  named  beyond  the  home-circle  ;  and  there 
are  points  of  difference  in  character,  and 
mutual  misapprehensions,  with  instances  of 
wounded  feeling,  and  subjects  of  reproof  and 
correction,  which  never  can  be  so  freely 
touched  upon,  even  in  the  most  perfect  union 
of  conjugal  affection.  On  this  subject,  how- 
ever, I  have  already  spoken  so  fully  in  an- 
other work,*  that  little  room  is  left  for  further 
notice  here :  I  will,  therefore,  only  allude  to 
some  of  the  causes  which  I  believe  most  fre- 
quently operate  against  young  persons  choos- 
ing their  confidants  at  home,  and  especially 
for  the  communication  of  their  religious  feel- 
ings or  impressions. 

*  The  Women  of  England. 


It  is  a  melancholy  thought,  that  the  want  of 
consistency  in  the  private  and  domestic  habits 
of  religious  professors,  may  possibly  be  the 
means  of  inducing  young  persons  to  seek  their 
spiritual  advisers  among  those  with  whom 
they  are  less  intimately  acquainted,  and  of 
whom  they  have  consequently  formed  a  high- 
er estimate ;  while,  on  the  other  hand,  a  dif- 
fidence of  themselves,  perhaps  a  misgiving, 
both  as  to  their  past  and  future  conduct,  ren- 
ders them  unwilling  to  communicate  fully  and 
freely  with  those  who  daily  watch  their  steps, 
lest  the  suspicion  of  hypocrisy  should  fall  up- 
on them  for  having  given  utterance  to  senti- 
ments and  emotions,  so  much  at  variance 
with  the  general  course  of  their  lives. 

That  these  hindrances  to  home-confidence 
should  sometimes  exist,  where  the  parties  are 
perfectly  sincere  in  their  good  intentions,  I  am 
quite  prepared  to  believe ;  but  there  are  oth- 
er cases,  and  perhaps  more  frequent  ones,  in 
which  the  sincerity  is  less  perfect,  where  the 
dread  of  being  committed  to  any  particular 
line  of  conduct  consistent  with  the  sentiments 
or  emotions  expressed,  operates  against  their 
being  so  much  as  spoken  of  to  any  who  com- 
pose the  family  circle. 

It  would  be  taking  a  dark  view  of  human 
nature,  indeed,  to  suppose  that  those  who 
•know  us  best  are  less  disposed  than  strangers 
to  attach  themselves  to  us  ;  yet,  I  would  ask 
the  young  aspirant  to  intimacy  with  a  new 
acquaintance,  whether  she  is  entering  upon 
that  intimacy  with  a  sincere  and  candid  wish 
to  be  to  that  friend  exactly  what  she  is  at 
home"?  If  not,  she  is,  to  all  intents  and  pur- 
poses, a  deceiver.  And  there  is  much  deceit 
in  all  our  early  friendships,  though  I  am  far 
from  supposing  it  to  be  all  intentional.  In- 
deed, I  am  convinced  it  is  not,  because  this 
heart-searching  process  is  what  few  young 
persons  submit  to,  before  commencing  an  in- 
timacy. 

In  friendship,  as  well  as  in  all  other  recip- 
rocal engagements,  it  is  highly  important  to 
limit  our  expectations  of  benefit  according  to 
the  exact  measure  of  our  deserts;  and  by 
this  means  we  may  avoid  many  of  those  bit- 
ter disappointments,  for  which  the  world  is 


THE  DAUGHTERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


so  unjustly  and  unsparingly  blamed.  The 
world  is  bad  enough ;  but  let  us  be  honest, 
and  take  our  share  of  condemnation,  for 
making  at  least  one  item  of  the  world  such 
as  it  is ;  and  by  thus  acquiring  the  habit  of 
strict  and  candid  self-examination  in  early 
life,  we  see  ihat  we  have  little  right  to  charge 
the  world  with  falsehood,  when  our  first  en- 
gagement, beyond  the  circle  of  our  own  fam- 
ily, has  been  entered  into  by  a  system  of  de- 
ceit 

There  is,  too,  a  rashness  and  impetuosity 
in  the  formation  of  early  friendships,  which 
of  themselves  are  sufficient  to  render  such 
intimacies  uncertain,  and  of  short  duration. 
Few  characters  can  be  considered  as  really 
formed,  under  the  age  of  twenty-one,  or 
twenty-five ;  yet  friendships  sometimes  be- 
gin at  a  much  earlier  date.  It  is  not  in  na- 
ture, then,  that  the  friend  we  loved  at  sixteen, 
should  be  the  same  to  us  at  twenty-six ;  or 
that  the  features  of  our  own  character  should 
have  undergone  no  change  during  that  pe- 
riod. Yet  it  must  not  be  called  falsehood,  or 
fickleness  either,  which  causes  such  friend- 
ships to  fail.  It  is  consistent  with  the  laws 
of  reason,  and  of  nature,  that  they  should 
do  so ;  for  had  the  same  individuals  who 
thus  deplore  each  other's  falsehood,  met  for 
the  first  time  at  the  age  of  twenty-six,  they' 
would  probably  each  have  been  the  very  last 
which  the  other  would  have  chosen  as  a 
friend. 

Again,  there  must  be  an  equality  in  friend- 
ship, to  render  it  either  lasting  or  desirable — 
an  equality  not  only  in  rank  and  elation,  but, 
as  far  as  may  be,  in  intellectual  advantages. 
However  warm  may  be  the  attachment  of 
two  friends  of  different  rank  in  society,  they 
must  occasionally  be  involved  in  dilemmas, 
from  which  it  is  impossible  to  escape  without 
wounded  feeling,  either  on  one  side  or  both. 
Each  of  these  friends,  it  must  be  remembered, 
will  have  her  relatives  and  connections, 
through  whom  her  pride  will  be  perpetually 
subject  to  imaginary  insult,  and  her  suscepti- 
bility to  real  pain.  Those  who  are  inferior  in 
mind  are,  however,  much  more  objectionable 
as  friends,  than  those  who  are  inferior  only 


in  worldly  circumstances ;  because  they  must 
always  be  incapable  of  judging  of  persons 
more  highly  gifted  than  themselves,  and  thus 
they  will  bestow  their  praise  and  their  blame 
with  equal  injustice.  The  ignorant,  too,  are 
always  prejudiced;  and,  therefore,  in  the 
choice  of  friends  whose  minds  are  unen- 
lightened, the  young  must  necessarily  incur 
the  risk  -of  imbibing  opinions  formed  upon 
false  conclusions,  which  in  all  probability  will 
exercise  a  powerful  influence  upon  the  whole 
of  their  subsequent  lives. 

Young  people  are  too  apt  to  think  the 
only  use  of  talent  is  to  interest  in  conversa- 
tion ;  if,  then,  they  find  themselves  interested 
without  it,  they  are  satisfied  to  dispense  with 
this  quality  in  a  friend.  But  how  empty — 
how  unprofitable  must  become  that  intimacy 
where  mind  is  not  taken  into  account — how 
worthless,  how  unsatisfactory  in  every  case 
of  trial,  the  society  of  that  friend  who  cannot 
advise,  as  well  as  pity ! 

Were  it  not  for  equality  being  requisite  to 
fhe  mutual  participation  of  the  pleasures  of 
friendship,  I  should  strongly  recommend  all 
young  persons  to  seek  a  friend  among  those 
who  are  older,  and  more  experienced  than 
themselves.  In  this  case,  however,  too  much 
must  not  be  expected  in  return,  for  it  is 
scarcely  possible  that  the  confiding  intimacy 
of  a  young  girl  should  always  be  interesting, 
or  even  acceptable  to  a  woman  more  ad- 
vanced in  life ;  unless,  indeed,  the  kindness 
of  relationship  should  render  the  office  of  the 
elder  confidant  a  welcome  duty. 

Regardless  of  these  wholesome  rules,  it  is 
more  than  probable  that  the  greater  part  of 
my  young  readers  will  go  on  forming  inti- 
macies according  to  circumstances,  or  indi- 
vidual fancy,  and  with  little  reference  to  fu- 
ture consequences.  In  time,  however,  some 
of  these  intimacies  will  become  irksome, 
while  others  will  die  away.  It  will  then  be- 
come a  serious  question,  "  Whom  shall  I  en- 
deavor to  retain  as  friends]"  Try,  then,  to 
ascertain,  in  this  stage  of  your  short  experi- 
ence, whose  society  has  had  the  happiest 
effect  upon  your  own  character  ;  and  let  not 
this  great  question  remain  unsettled,  until 


FRIENDSHIP  AND  FLIRTATION. 


you  have  ascertained,  with  regard  to  each  one 
of  the  individuals  who  have  composed  your 
circle  of  nominal  friends,  whether  they  have 
generally  left  you  better  or  worse  for  a  day 
spent  in  their  company — more  willing  to 
submit  to  the  requirements  of  religious  duty, 
or  more  disposed  to  consider  those  require- 
ments unreasonable  and  severe. 

The  pleasure  or  amusement  immediately 
derived  from  the  society  of  an  individual,  is 
a  dangerous  and  deceitful  test  by  which  to 
try  the  value  of  their  friendship  ;  but  the  di- 
rect influence  of  their  society  upon  our  own 
state  of  mind,  not  while  they  are  with  us, 
but  after  the  charm  of  their  society  is  with- 
drawn, is  a  means  of  judging,  which  no  ra- 
tional and  responsible  being  ought  to  neglect 

If,  for  instance,  in  the  circle  of  our  favorite 
associates,  there  is  one  who  habitually  awa- 
kens the  laughter  of  merriment,  and  charms 
into  magic  fleetness  the  hours  you  pass  to- 
gether ;  yet  if  the  same  individual  leaves 
you  flat,  and  dull,  and  indisposed  for  the  use- 
ful and  less  pleasing  occupations  of  life ;  be- 
ware of  making  her  your  friend.  But  if 
there  be  another  who,  possibly  less  amusing 
at  the  time  you  converse  together,  yet  leaves 
you  raised  above  the  common  level  of  expe- 
rience, by  the  support  of  true  and  lofty  prin- 
ciples ;  disposed  to  reject  what  is  false  or 
mean,  and  to  lay  hold  on  what  is  good ; 
liftea  out  of  the  slavery  of  what  is  worldly 
or  trifling,  and  made  stronger  in  every  gen- 
erous purpose,  and  every  laudable  endeavor; 
let  the  friendship  of  that  individual  be  bound 
around  your  heart,  and  cherished  to  the  end 
of  life,  as  one  of  the  richest  blessings  per- 
mitted us  to  enjoy  on  earth. 

By  this  rule,  those  who  are  candidates  for 
our  friendship,  may  safely  be  tried ;  but  there 
is  yet  a  closer  test,  which  must  be  applied  to 
friendship  itself.  If  the  friend  you  have  cho- 
sen, never  attempts  to  correct  your  faults,  or 
make  you  better  than  you  are,  she  is  not 
worthy  of  the  name ;  nor  ought  she  to  be 
fully  confided  in,  whatever  may  be  the  ex- 
tent of  her  kindness  to  you,  or  the  degree  of 
her  admiration  of  your  character. 

Having  well  chosen  your  friend,  the  next 


thing  is,  to  trust  her,  and  to  show  that  you 
do  so.  Mutual  trust  is  the  strongest  cement 
of  all  earthly  attachments.  We  are  so  con- 
scious of  weakness  ourselves,  that  v^  need 
this  support  from  others  ;  and  no  compliment 
paid  to  the  ear  of  vanity  was  ever  yet  so 
powerful  in  its  influence,  as  even  trie  sim- 
plest proof  of  being  trusted.  The  one  may 
excite  a  momentary  thrill  of  pleasure,  the 
other  serves,  for  many  an  after  day,  to  nour- 
ish the  life-springs  of  a  warm  and  generous 
heart. 

It  is  needless  to  say  how  effectually  a  sus- 
picious, or  a  jealous  temper,  destroys  this 
truth.  If  we  really  loved  our  friends  as  we 
ought,  and  as  we  probably  profess  to  love 
them,  we  should  be  less  watchful  of  their 
conduct  towards  ourselves,  than  of  ours  to 
them  ;  nor  should  we  grudge  them  the  inti- 
macy of  other  friends,  when  conducive  to 
their  enjoyment,  if  our  own  attachment  was 
based  upon  pure  and  disinterested  affection. 
Friendship,  which  is  narrowed  up  between 
two  individuals,  and  confined  to  that  number 
alone,  is  calculated  only  for  the  intercourse 
of  married  life,  and  seldom  has  been  main- 
tained with  any  degree  of  lasting  benefit  or 
satisfaction,  even  by  the  most  romantic  and 
affectionate  of  women.  True  friendship  is 
of  a  more  liberal  and  expansive  nature,  and 
seldom  flourishes  so  well  as  when  extended 
through  a  circle.  A  circle  of  young  female 
friends,  who  love  and  trust  each  other,  who 
mutually  agree  to  support  the  weak  in  their 
little  community,  to  confirm  the  irresolute,  to 
reclaim  the  erring,  to  soothe  the  irritable,  and 
to  solace  the  distressed ;  what  a  realization 
does  this  picture  present  of  the  brightest 
dreams  of  imagination,  when  we  think  what 
woman  might  be  in  this  world  to  her  own 
sex,  and  to  the  community  at  large  ! 

And  is  this,  then,  too  much  to  expect  from 
the  daughters  of  England — that  woman  should 
be  true  to  woman  1  In  the  circle  of  her  pri- 
vate friends,  as  well  as  from  her  own  heart, 
she  learns  what  constitutes  the  happiness  and 
the  misery  of  woman,  what  is  her  weakness 
and  what  her  need,  what  her  bane  and  what 
her  blessing.  She  learns  to  comprehend  the 


90 


THE  DAUGHTERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


deep  mystery  of  that  electric  chain  of  feeling 
which  ever  vibrates  through  the  heart  of  wo- 
man, and  which  man,  with  all  his  philosophy, 
can  never  understand.  She  learns  that  every 
touch  of  that  chain  is  like  the  thrilling  of  a 
nerve ;  and  she  thus  acquires  a  power  pecu- 
liar to  herself,  of  distinguishing  exactly  be- 
tween the  links  which  thrill  with  pleasure, 
and  those  which  only  thrill  with  pain. 

Thus,  while  her  sympathy  and  her  tender- 
ness for  a  chosen  few  is  strengthened  by  the 
bond  of  friendship  into  which  she  has  entered, 
though  her  confidence  is  still  confined  to  them, 
a  measure  of  the  same  sympathy  and  tender- 
ness is  extended  to  the  whole  sisterhood  of 
her  sex,  until,  in  reality,  she  becomes  what 
woman  ever  must  be — in  her  noblest,  purest, 
holiest  character — the  friend  of  woman. 

What  should  we  think  of  a  community  of 
slaves,  who  betrayed  each  other's  interests  ? 
of  a  little  band  of  shipwrecked  mariners  upon 
a  friendless  shore,  who  were  false  to  each 
other?  of  the  inhabitants  of  a  defenceless  na- 
tion, who  would  not  unite  together  in  earnest- 
ness and  good  faith  against  a  common  enemy  1 
We  are  accustomed  to  hear,  of  the  meanness 
of  the  powerful,  when  they  forsake  the  weak ; 
but  there  is  a  meanness  of  a  lower  grade — 
when  the  weak  forsake  each  other. 

No  party,  however,  can  be  weak,  which 
has  truth  for  its  element,  and  love  for  its  bond 
of  union.  Women  are  only  weak  in  their 
vanity,  their  selfishness,  their  falsehood  to 
each  other.  In  their  integrity,  their  faithful- 
ness, their  devoted  affection,  they  rise  to  an 
almost  superhuman  eminence ;  because  they 
are  strong  in  the  elements  of  immaterial  be- 
ing, and  powerful  in  the  nature  which  is  ca- 
pable, when  regenerated,  of  being  shared 
with  angels. 

From  the  nature  of  true  friendship,  we  turn 
to  the  consideration  of  what  are  its  require- 
ments. These,  also,  are  mutual.  If  we  ex- 
pect to  receive,  we  must  be  studious  to  give. 
An  interchange  of  kind  offices  and  evident 
proofs  of  affection  are  essential  to  the  vitality 
of  friendship ;  avoiding,  however,  the  slightest 
approach  to  any  thing  like  a  debtor  and 
creditor  account  of  the  number  of  presents 


given  or  received,  or  even  of  the  number  of 
letters  exchanged. 

It  seems  a  strange  anomaly  in  friendship, 
that  young  persons,  however  ardently  attach- 
ed, should  so  seldom  write,  except  when  a 
letter  is  considered  to  be  due  by  a  certain 
length  of  time  having  elapsed  since  the  last 
was  received.  It  often  happens,  that  one 
friend  is  particularly  engaged,  while  the  other 
has  an  abundance  of  unoccupied  time ;  but 
a  letter  is  still  required  by  the  idle  party,  or 
the  love  which  she  thinks  so  glowing  and  so 
tender,  finds  no  channel  of  expression  to  her 
friend.  Perhaps  a  friend  is  ill ;  and  then  is 
the  time,  above  all  others,  when  real  love 
would  dictate  a  succession  of  kind  letters, 
such  as  would  not  tax  the  afflicted,  or  the 
feeble  one,  with  the  effort  of  making  any  re- 
turn. There  is,  in  fact,  a  mystery  about  the 
letter-writing  of  young  women,  which  I  have 
never  been  able  fully  to  understand.  It  oc- 
cupies their  time ;  it  used  to  drain  their  purses, 
or  the  purses  of  their  friends  !  it  calls  forth 
more  complaining  than  almost  any  thing  else 
they  have  to  do  ;  the  letters  they  receive  are 
seldom  fraught  with  much  interest ;  and  yet 
they  plunge  into  this  reciprocity  of  annoyance, 
as  if  the  chief  business  of  life  was  to  be  wri- 
ing  or  receiving  letters. 

Still,  I  am  very  far  from  supposing  that 
this  means  of  interchanging  sentiment  £nd 
thought,  might  not  be  rendered  highly  bene- 
ficial to  the  youthful  mind  ;  because  I  believe 
writing  is  of  great  importance  as  a  branch  of 
education.  Without  this  habit,  few  persons, 
and  especially  women,  think  definitely.  The 
accustomed  occupation  of  their  minds  is  that 
of  musing  ;  and  they  are,  consequently,  sel- 
dom able  to  disentangle  a  single  clear  idea 
from  the  currant  of  vague  thoughts,  which 
they  suffer  perpetually  to  flow,  and  which 
affords  them  a  constant,  but,  at  the  same  time, 
a  profitless  amusement,  in  the  variety  of  ideas 
it  presents,  alike  without  form,  and  void. 
But,  in  order  to  write  with  any  degree  of  per- 
spicuity, we  are,  to  a  certain  extent,  compel- 
led to  think ;  and  consequently,  the  habit  of 
writing  letters,  if  4V-~  subject-matter  be  well 
chosen,  might  be  rendered  highly  advantage- 


FRIENDSHIP  AND  FLIRTATION. 


01 


ous  to  young  women,  who,  on  the  termina- 
tion of  their  scholastic  exercises,  require,  more 
than  at  any  other  time  of  life,  some  frequently 
recurring  mental  occupation,  to  render  their 
education  complete. 

The  art  of  writing  a  really  good  letter  ranks 
unquestionably  among  the  most  valuable  ac- 
complishments of  woman,  and  next  to  that 
of  conversing  well.  In  both  cases,  the  first 
thing  to  be  avoided,  is  common-place;  be- 
cause, whatever  partakes  of  the  natureof  com- 
mon-place, is  not  only  vulgar,  but  ineffective. 

I  know  not  how  I  can  better  define  this 
term,  so  frequently  used,  and  so  little  under- 
stood, than  by  saying  that  common-place  con- 
sists chiefly  in  speaking  of  things  by  their 
little  qualities,  rather  than  their  great  ones. 
Thus  it  is  common-place  to  speak  of  religious 
persons  as  using  cant,  to  speak  of  distinguish- 
ed characters  as  being  well  or  ill-dressed,  and 
to  speak  of  the  works  of  Shakspeare  as  be- 
ing peculiar  in  their  style.  It  is  also  common- 
place to  use  those  expressions  of  kindness,  or 
sympathy,  which  custom  has  led  us  to  expect 
as  a  matter  of  course.  And  we  never  feel 
this  more,  than  in  cases  of  affliction  or  death  ; 
because  there  is  a  kind  of  set  phraseology 
made  use.of  on  such  occasions,  which  those 
who  really  feel  would  often  be  glad  to  vary, 
if  they  only  knew  how.  It  is  common-place 
to  speak  of  some  fact  as  recently  discovered, 
to  those  who  have  long  known  it.  But  above 
all  that  is  genuine  in  common-place,  the  kind 
of  flattery  generally  adopted  by  men,  when 
they  mean  to  address  themselves  pleasantly 
to  women,  deserves  the  credit  of  pre-emi- 
nence. Indeed,  so  deficient,  for  the  most 
part,  is  this  flattery,  in  point,  originality,  and 
adaptation,  that  I  have  known  sensible  wo- 
men, who  felt  more  really  flattered  by  the 
most  humiliating  truths,  even  plainly  spoken  ; 
because  such  treatment  implied  a  confidence 
in  their  strength  of  mind  and  good  sense,  in 
being  able  to  bear  it. 

Common-place  letters  are  such  as,  but  for 
the  direction,  would  have  done  as  well  for 
any  other  individual  as  the  one  to  whom  they 
are  addressed.  In  description  especially,  it 
is  desirable  to  avoid  common-place.  A  cor- 


respondent making  a  tour  of  the  Lakes,  tells 
you  that  on  such  a  day  she  set  off  to  the  sum- 
mit of  Helvellyn.  That  the  first  part  of  the 
ascent  was  steep  and  difficult,  the  latter  more 
easy ;  that  the  view  from  the  summit  was 
magnificent,  extending  over  so  many  lakes, 
and  so  many  other  mountains ;  and  there 
ends  the  story ;  and  well  for  you,  if  it  does 
end  there.  But  such  writers  unfortunately 
often  go  on  through  a  whole  catalogi^e  of 
beauties  and  sublimities,  no  single  one  of 
which  they  set  before  you  in  such  a  manner 
as  to  render  it  one  whit  more  attractive,  or  in- 
deed more  peculiar  in  any  of  its  features, 
than  the  king's  highway. 

In  the  vain  hope  of  avoiding  common- 
place, some  young  writers  have  recourse  to 
extravagant  expressions  when  describing  lit- 
tle things  ;  a  mode  of  writing,  which,  besides 
being  the  medium  of  falsehood,  leaves  them 
in  the  uncomfortable  predicament  of  having 
no  language  adequate  to  what  is  great. 

It  is  difficult  to  say  what  is  the  direct 
opposite  of  common-place,  without  giving 
lengthened  quotations  from  the  best  style  of 
epistolary  correspondence,  with  which  the  lit- 
erature of  our  country  during  the  last  cen- 
tury abounds.  There  is  a  quality  both  in 
writing  and  conversation,  to  which  I  can 
give  no  other  name  than  freshness,  which  is 
not  only  opposite  in  its  nature  and  effect  to 
common-place,  but  on  which  I  believe  de- 
pends more  than  half  the  pleasure  and  amuse- 
ment we  derive  from  the  intercourse  of  mind 
with  mind.  Few  persons  possess  this  charm ; 
because  few  are  humble  enough  to  suppose 
that  it  would  be  any  advantage  to  them ; 
and  those  who  do,  are  always  in  danger  of 
losing  it  by  writing  too  much.  The  letters  of 
a  woman  of  moderate  abilities,  and  limited 
sphere  of  observation,  may  possess  this  great 
beauty ;  while  those  of  a  more  highly  gifted, 
or  accomplished  writer,  may  want  it ;  be- 
cause it  must  ever  depend  upon  a  capability 
of  receiving  vivid  impressions,  combined  with 
a  certain  degree  of  simplicity  of  heart. 

The  first  consideration  in  commencing  a 
letter  should  be,  "  What  is  my  object  in  wri- 
ting it?"  If  simply  for  the  relief  of  your  own 


92 


THE  DAUGHTERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


mind  you  take  up  the  pen,  remember  that 
such  a  communication  can  only  be  justified 
by  pressing  and  peculiar  circumstances,  and 
that  it  ought  only  to  be  addressed  to  the 
nearest  and  dearest  of  your  friends,  whose 
love  for  you  is  of  such  a  nature  as  to  pardon 
so  selfish  an  act 

A  higher  object  in  writing,  is  to  give  pleas- 
ure, or  afford  benefit,  to  an  absent  friend  ;  it 
is  therefore  necessary  to  place  yourself  in 
idea  in  her  circumstances,  and  consider  what 
she  would  most  wish  to  know.  If  her  affec- 
tion for  you  be  such,  and  such  I  am  aware 
affection  often  is,  that  she  has  no  desire  be- 
yond that  of  receiving  intelligence  concerning 
yourself,  let  your  descriptions  of  your  state 
and  circumstances  be  clear  and  fresh  ;  so  that 
she  may  see  you  as  you  really  are,  and,  as  it 
were,  live  with  you  through  the  enjoyments 
or  the  trials  of  every  day.  How  strong  and 
lively  may  be  the  impressions  thus  conveyed 
— how  deep  the  interest  they  excite,  provided 
only  the  writer  will  condescend  to  be  suffi- 
ciently simple — sufficiently  sincere  !  ' 

It  is,  however,  only  under  peculiar  circum- 
stances, such  as  change  of  scene  and  situa- 
tion, that  young  persons  can  have  much  of 
this  kind  to  communicate.  What  then  are 
they  to  say  ?  Shall  the  minute  details  of  fam- 
ily affairs  be  raked  up,  to  fill  their  letters! 
This  is  at  least  a  dangerous  alternative,  more 
especially  as  it  too  frequently  induces  a  habit 
of  exaggeration,  in  order  to  make  what  is 
called  "  a  good  story"  out  of  a  mere  trifle  ; 
and  thus,  that  worst  kind  of  falsehood,  which 
is  partly  true,  becomes  perpetuated  through 
the  medium  of  pen  and  paper. 

To  avoid  this  danger  on  the  one  hand, 
and  the  weariness  of  writing  without  any 
thing  to  say,  on  the  other,  would  it  not  be 
practicable  for  young  women  to  agree,  for 
their  own  improvement  and  that  of  their 
friends,  to  correspond  on  some  given  subject, 
and  if  unequal  to  the  task  of  treating  it  in  a 
style  of  an  essay,  they  might  at  least  relate 
to  each  other  some  important  or  amusing 
facts,  which  they  had  met  with  in  the  course 
of  their  reading,  and  by  relating  them  in  their 
own  language,  and  <hen  comparing  them  with 


that  of  the  author,  they  would  be  learning 
valuable  lessons  in  the  art  of  composition ! 
for  of  all  kinds  of  style,  that  of  easy  narrative 
is  the  most  useful. 

The  study  of  nature  in  this  department  of 
menta4  improvement,  might  be  made  to  afford 
a  never-failing  source  of  interest,  both  for  in- 
dividual thought  and  familiar  communication. 
The  peculiarities  of  plants  and  animals,  and 
even  the  different  traits  of  human  character 
developed  by  people  of  different  countries 
and  grades  of  society,  might  all  contribute  to 
the  same  object,  so  as  in  time  to  displace 
from  the  page  of  female  correspondence,  the 
trifling,  the  common-place,  or  the  more  mis- 
chievous gossip,  which  that  page  too  gener- 
ally unfolds. 

In  speaking  of  a  mutual  interchange  of 
tokens  of  affection  being  essential  to  the  vi- 
tality of  friendship,  I  am  far  from  including 
under  this  head,  those  expressions  of  endear- 
ment which  are  sometimes  used  by  young 
women,  so  indiscriminately,  as  entirely  to 
lose  their  individual  force  and  value.  Indeed, 
I  am  not  quite,  sure  that  terms  of  endearment 
made  use  of  as  a  matter  of  course,  are  desi- 
rable under  any  circumstances ;  because  there 
will  be  occasions,  even  with  the  most  warmly 
attached,  when  the  tones  of  the  voice,  and 
the  expression  of  the  countenance,  indicate 
any  thing  but  love  ;  and  having  heard  these 
tender  epithets  still  made  use  of  on  such  oc- 
casions, it  is  scarcely  possible  to  retain  our 
value  for  them  when  applied  with  real  ten- 
derness and  respect  It  also  frequently  hap- 
pens, where  these  epithets  are  commonly 
used,  that  the  very  individual  who  has  just 
been  speaking  to  us  injuriously  of  another, 
turns  to  the  injured  party  with  the  same  ex- 
pression of  endearment  so  frequently  applied 
to  ourselves,  and  which  we  consequently  be- 
come extremely  willing  to  dispense  with  for 
the  future. 

It  is  the  peculiar  nature  of  friendship,  that 
it  will  not  be  mocked.  All  manner  of  weak- 
ness, and  a  fearful  sum  of  follies  and  trans- 
gression?, it  is  willing  to  bear  with  ;  but  faith- 
fulness is  a  requisite  without  which  it  is  im- 
possible it  should  continue  to  exist  It  is  not 


FRIENDSHIP  AND  FLIRTATION. 


93 


necessary,  in  order  to  be  faithful  to  our  friends, 
that  we  should  be  always  praising  them,  nor 
yet  that  we  should  praise  them  more  than 
they  deserve.  So  far  from  this,  we  do  them 
real  injury  by  too  much  praise,  because  it  al- 
ways occasions  disappointment  in  those  who 
cultivate  their  acquaintance  upon  the  strength 
of  our  evidence  in  their  favor.  Nor  is  it 
necessary,  when  we  hear  their  characters 
discussed  in  company,  to  defend  them  against 
every  charge ;  at  least  to  deny  their  having 
those  faults  which  are  conspicuous  to  every 
eye.  But  one  thing  is  necessary  on  such 
occasions — that  a  friend  should  be  ever 
prompt  and  anxious  to  bring  forward  the 
evidence  which  remains  on  the  side  of  virtue, 
so  far  as  it  may  be  done  with  prudence  and 
delicacy. 

The  indulgence  of  caprice  is  another  evil 
prevalent  among  the  young,  with  which 
friendship  disdains  that  her  claims  should  be 
put  in  competition.  Capricious  persons  are 
those  who  frequently  choose  to  act  under  a 
momentary  impulse,  in  a  manner  opposed  to 
the  general  and  acknowledged  rule  of  their 
conduct  and  feelings.  Thus  the  social  com- 
panion of  yesterday,  may  choose  to  be  a 
stranger  to-day.  She  may  have  no  unkind- 
ness  in  her  heart  towards  you,  yet  it  may 
suit  her  mood  to  meet  as  if  you  had  never 
met  before.  She  may  have  no  desire  to  give 
you  pain,  yet  her  looks  may  be  as  forbidding, 
and  her  manners  as  repulsive,  as  if  she  had 
never  loved  you.  She  may  be  habitually 
cheerful,  yet  her  humor  may  be  to  hang 
her  head,  and  lower  her  brow,  and  hardly 
articulate  an  answer  when  you  speak  to  her. 

It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  say,  that  few 
things  are  more  ruinous  to  friendship,  and  to 
domestic  and  social  happiness  in  general, 
than  caprice ;  because  its  very  nature  is  to 
render  every  one  uncertain,  and  to  chill,  to 
wound,  or  to  irritate  all  with  whom  it  comes 
in  contact ;  while  friendship  requires  that 
you  should  always  be  the  same  ;  and  nothing 
can  be  more  painful  to  the  feelings  of  a  friend, 
than  to  find  that  caprice,  or  the  indulgence 
of  your  own  humor,  is  a  matter  of  more 
importance  to  you  than  her  happiness.  Such 


wounds,  however,  are  happily  not  incurable. 
Friendship,  thus  repulsed,  is  soon  withdrawn ; 
and  the  capricious  woman  has  the  satisfac- 
tion of  finding  herself  left  at  last  to  the  enjoy- 
ment of  her  different  moods  alone.  There 
is,  in  short,  something  in  the  very  nature  of 
caprice  so  selfish  and  ungenerous,  so  opposed 
to  all  the  requirements  of  affection,  that  in 
no  connection  in  life,  except  where  the  tie  is 
indissoluble,  can  it  long  be  endured. 

But  whiie  we  are  justified  in  acting  upon 
the  repulsion  which  caprice  so  naturally  ex- 
cites, there  are  other  trials  which,  if  true, 
friendship  must  submit  to  endure ;  because 
they  necessarily  spring  out  of  the  nature  of 
the  human  heart,  and,  instead  of  being 
checked  by  the  influence  of  society,  they  are 
fostered  by  it,  and  subsist  upon  the  very  ele- 
ments of  which  it  is  composed.  One  of  these 
evils  is  a  spurious  kind  of  social  intercourse, 
falsely  denominated  friendship,  which,  unfor- 
tunately, sometimes  links  itself  with  the  true. 
I  say  falsely,  for  that  friendship  is  not  worthy 
the  name,  which  is  founded  upon  tale-bear- 
ing and  detraction.  Yet,  how  much  of  the 
intimacy  of  young  women  consists  in  the 
magnifying  and  telling  of  little  troubles,  par- 
ticularly of  a  domestic  nature,  and  most  com- 
monly injurious  to  some  member  of  the 
household  to  which  they  belong. 

Let  the  young  be  especially  warned  against 
this  most  insidious  and  most  dangerous 
temptation ;  and  let  them  be  assured,  that 
there  are  few  causes  of  more  bitter  repent- 
ance in  after  life,  than  the  reflection  that  they 
have  thus  wantonly  made  themselves  enemies 
to  those  of  their  own  house.  There  is  one 
fact  which  ought  of  itself  to  deter  them  from 
the  indulgence  of  this  habit.  It  is,  that 
friendship  based  *on  such  a  foundation  is 
never  lasting.  No ;  friendship  must  have 
love,  not  hate,  for  its  element  If  the  inti- 
macy of  youth  consists  in  evil  speaking,  and 
injurious  thoughts,  it  soon  becomes  assimi- 
lated with  the  poisonous  aliment  on  which  it 
feeds.  The  friend  becomes  an  enemy ;  and 
what  is  the  consequence  7  The  shafts  of 
slander  are  turned  against  yourself,  and  the 
dark  secrets  vou  have  revealed,  go  forth  to 


THE  DAUGHTERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


the  world  as  swift  witnesses  against  you,  as 
well  as  against  those  to  whom  duty  and  nat- 
ural affection  should  have  kept  you  true. 

Besides  which,  there  are  few  cases  of  hu- 
man conduct  where  inexperienced  youth  can 
be  a  correct  or  sufficient  judge.  It  may  ap- 
pear to  you  at  the  time  you  speak  of  family 
grievances,  that  a' parent  has  been  too  severe, 
that  a  sister  has  been  selfish,  or  that  a  brother 
has  been  unjust  But  you  are  not  even  ca- 
pable of  judging  of  yourself,  as  f  egards  the 
impression  produced  by  your  own  behavior 
upon  others ;  how  then  can  you  pronounce 
upon  the  motives  of  others  in  their  behavior 
to  you  ?  more  especially  how  are  you  to  lift 
the  veil  of  experience,  and  penetrate  the  deep 
mysteries  of  parental  love  1  yet,  how  other- 
wise are  you  to  understand 

"  The  secrets  of  the  folded  heart 
That  seemed  to  thee  so  stern  ?" 

There  are  hordes  of  human  beings,  once 
partakers  with  us  in  the  privileges  and  en- 
joyments of  our  native  land,  now  branded 
with  infamy,  and  toiling  in  chains  upon  a  dis- 
tant shore,  who  have  to  regret,  when  too  late, 
some  guilty  theft  committed  in  early  youth 
upon  the  property  of  a  confiding  and  indul- 
gent master.  And  the  voice  of  our  country 
cries  out  against  them  for  the  injury  and  in- 
gratitude, as  well  as  for  the  injustice,  of  what 
they  have  done.  And  is  it  possible  that  with- 
in the  fair  and  polished  circles  of  the  same 
favored  land,  where  woman  blooms  and 
smiles,  and  youth  is  radiant  with  joy,  and 
happy  in  the  security  of  domestic  peace — is 
it  possible  that  woman  can  so  far  forget  her 
heart- warm  affection,  her  truth,  her  devoted- 
ness  of  soul,  as,  while  her  hands  are  pure 
from  the  contamination  oflso  foul  a  crime  as 
theft,  to  permit  her  tongue  to  be  the  instru- 
ment of  injury  more  deep  than  robbery — 
more  bitter  than  the  loss  of  wealth  1 

We  will  not — we  cannot  believe  it ;  be- 
cause the  time  is  coming  when  the  daughters 
of  England,  admonished  of  their  duties  on 
every  hand,  will  learn  to  look,  not  to  the 
mere  gratification  of  an  idle  moment,  in  wha 
they  say,  and  what  they  do,  but  to  the  eter 


nal  principles  of  right  and  wrong ;  and  to  the 
jreat  balance  in  which  human  actions  are 
weighed,  in  reference  not  only  to  .time,  but  to 
eternity. 

It  is  good  for  many  reasons  that  youth 
hould  early  acquire  a  habit  of  checking  its 
own  impulses,  and  never  is  this  more  impor- 
tant than  when  under  temptation  to  speak 
njuriously  of  others.  A  few  years  more  of 
;xperience,  a  few  more  instances  of  personal 
trial,  a  little  more  self-knowledge,  and  a  little 
more  observation  of  others,  will  in  all  proba- 
bility open  your  understandings  to  an  entirely 
altered  view  of  human  nature,  of  the  motives 
which  influence  the  conduct  of  mankind,  as 
well  as  of  the  claims  of  affection,  when  com- 
bined with  those  of  duty.  You  will  then  see 
how  unjust  have  been  your  first  conclusions, 
how  your  thoughts  have  wronged  those 
whom  you  were  unable  to  understand  ;  and 
happy  will  it  be  for  you  when  making  this  dis- 
covery, to  reflect  that  you  have  scrupulously 
kept  your  erroneous  views  and  injurious 
suspicions  confined  to  the  knowledge  of  your 
own  heart 

Friendship,  if  true,  has  much  to  bear  fr«m 
the  idle  and  mishievous  gossip  of  society. 
Indeed,  gossip  may  justly  be  considered  as 
having  destroyed  more  youthful  attachments, 
than  selfishness,  falsehood,  or  vanity  ;  though 
all  these  three  have  done  their  part  in  the 
work  of  destruction.  It  is  easy  to  say, 
care  not  for  such  and  such  injurious  reports ;" 
"  The  opinion  of  the  world  is  of  no  conse- 
quence to  me ;"  and  it  is  undoubtedly  the 
part  of  wisdom  not  to  allow  such  causes  to 
operate  against  our  peace  of  mind.  Unfor- 
tunately, however,  for  us,  the  world  is  made 
up  of  our  friends,' as  well  as  of  those  who 
are  strangers  to  us ;  and  in  this  world  it  is 
the  malignant  office  of  gossip  to  set  afloat 
rumors  of  what  is  evil,  rather  than  statements 
of  what  is  good.  Were  such  rumors  wel- 
comed only  by  the  credulity  of  strangers, 
they  would  certainly  be  of  little  consequence 
to  us ;  but,  alas  for  the  faithfulness  of  affec- 
tion !  our  friends,  though  at  first  surprised 
at  last  believe  them ;  and  then  comes  the 
trial  of  friendship,  for  to  be  injuriously  anc 


FRIENDSHIP  AND  FLIRTATION. 


95 


unjustly  thought  of  by  those  who  ought  to 
know  us  better,  and  simply  because  common 
report  has  circulated  some  charge  against  us, 
is  that,  which,  perhaps  more  than  any  thing 
else,  destroys  our  confidence  in  the  profes- 
sion, the  language,  the  very  name  of  friend- 
ship. 

The  character  of  woman  in  every  situation 
in  life,  has  ever  been  found  most  admirable, 
when  most  severely  tried ;  and  I  know  that 
her  friendship  is  equal  to  remaining  unshaken 
by  difficulties  and  dangers,  which  might  well 
be  supposed  to  move  a  firmer  nature  than 
hers.  But  I  speak  of  the  little  trials  of  mi- 
nute and  every-day  experience,  for  it  is 
against  these  that  woman  seldom  brings  her 
highest  principles  and  best  feelings  to  bear. 
It  is  in  the  sunshine  of  society  that  friendship 
most  frequently  withers,  because  the  "love 
that  tempests  never  shook"  may  expire  un- 
der the  deadly  breathing-upon  of  common 
slander. 

On  the  first  view  of  this  subject,  it  seems 
impossible  to  believe  that  mere  gossip,  which 
we  unanimously  agree  to  regard  as  being  in 
so  many  instances  false,  should  operate  with 
such  potency  in  dissolving  the  tenderest  ties 
of  early  life.  Yet  I  appeal  to  experience,  and 
observation  too,  when  I  ask,  whether  the 
ranks  of  society  are  not  thronged  with  indi- 
viduals closely  assimilated  in  their  habits  and 
ways  of  thinking,  mutually  in  want  of  the 
consolations  of  friendship,  and  adapted  to 
promote  each  other's  happiness,  of  whom  it 
may  be  said  with  melancholy  truth, 

"  Alas  !  they  had  been  friends  in  youth, 
But  whispering  tongues  can  poison  truth." 

What  then  is  the  part  which  friendship 
ought  to  act  in  a  case  where  rumor  is  strong 
against  a  friend  1  The  part  of  true  friend- 
ship is  always  a  straightforward  and  decided 
one.  First  ask  whether  the  charge  brought 
against  your  friend  be  wholly  at  variance 
with  the  principles  you  know  to  regulate  her 
conduct  in  general,  wholly  at  variance  with 
the  sentiments  uniformly  expressed  in  her 
confidential  intercourse  with  you,  and  wholly 
at  variance  with  the  tenor  of  her  previous  life. 


If  such  be  the  case,  reject  it  with  a  noble  in. 
dignation  ;  for  even  if  in  one  instance  your 
friend  has  actually  departed  from  the  general 
principles  of  her  conduct,  her  habitual  senti- 
ments, and  her  accustomed  mode  of  action 

and  if  in  the  end  you  find  that  the  world  has 
all  the  while  been  right,  while  you  have  been 
mistaken — it  is  better  a  thousand  times  to 
have  felt  this  generous,  though  misplaced 
confidence,  than  to  have  been  hastily  drawn 
in  to  entertain  an  injurious  suspicion  of  a 
friend. 

Still,  where  the  evidence  is  strong  against 
a  friend,  where  it  increases  and  becomes  con- 
firmed, it  would  be  blindness  and  folly  to 
continue  to  disregard  it  But  before  you 
yield  even  to  such  accumulating  evidence, 
more  especially  before  you  act  upon  it,  or 
suffer  one  syllable  to  pass  your  lips  in  sup- 
port of  the  charge,  or  even  of  other  charges 
of  a  similar  nature  to  that  openly  alleged, 
fail  not,  as  you  value  every  thing  that  is  just 
and  equitable  in  the  conduct  of  one  human 
being  towards  another — fail  not  to  appeal  di- 
rectly to  the  injured  party,  so  as  to  allow  her 
an  opportunity  of  exculpating,  or  at  least  of 
excusing,  herself. 

If  this  had  but  been  done  in  one  instance 
out  of  a  thousand,  where  slander  has  scat- 
tered her  poison  upon  the  foundation  of  hu- 
man love,  what  a  different  position  would 
woman  now  maintain  in  the  scale  of  moral 
excellence !  How  much  of  real  good  the 
hand  of  friendship  might  by  this  means  have 
drawn  out  from  seeming  evil ;  how  many  a 
wounded  bosom  the  balm  of  friendship  might 
have  healed  ;  how  many  of  those  who  are 
now  lonely  and  unloved  might  have  been 
linked  together  in  the  endearing  fellowship 
of  mutual  affection  ! 

People  talk  as  if  the  worst  thing  that  could 
happen  to  us,  was  to  be  deceived  ;  they  dare 
not  be  generous,  they  dare  not  trust,  because 
they  should  thereby  incur  the  risk  of  being 
deceived.  That  this  theory  may  very  prop- 
erly be  acted  upon  in  business,  I  am  quite 
disposed  to  allow  ;  but  if  in  friendship  there 
is  no  other  alternative  than  to  listen  to  injuri- 
ous rumor,  to  lean  to  the  side  of  suspicion, 


96 


THE  DAUGHTERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


and  to  believe  the  first  report  against  a  friend, 
let  ine  rather  be  deceived  a  thousand  times, 
for  then  I  shall  at  least  enjoy  the  conscious- 
ness of  having  known  what  it  was  to  trust, 
as  well  as  love. 

Friendship  has  many  trials.  Though 
vanity  and  selfishness  are  at  the  root  of 
many  of  these,  they  are  for  the  most  part 
too  minute,  and  apparently  too  trifling  for 
description.  Perhaps  the  greatest  of  these 
arises  out  of  the  undue  value  attached  by 
women  to  the  general  attentions  of  men. 
For  the  assistance,  the  protection,  and  the 
disinterested  kindness  of  the  other  sex,  all 
women  ought  to  be  deeply  grateful ;  but  for 
those  common  attentions  which  good  breed- 
ing dictates,  without  reference  to  the  indi- 
vidual on  whom  they  are  bestowed,  I  own  I 
cannot  see  why  they  should  ever  be  so  much 
the  subject  of  envy  among  women,  as  to 
cast  a  shade  upon  their  intercourse  with  each 
other. 

This  part  of  my  subject  necessarily  leads 
me  to  the  consideration  of  what,  for  want  of 
a  more  serious  name,  I  am  under  the  neces- 
sity of  calling  flirtation ;  by  which  I  would 
be  understood  to  mean,  all  that  part  of  the 
behavior  of  women  which,  in  the  art  of  pleas- 
ing, has  reference  only  to  men.  It  is  easy 
to  understand  whether  a  woman  is  guilty  of 
flirtation  or  not,  by  putting  her  conduct  to 
this  simple  test :  whether,  in  mixed  society, 
she  is  the  same  to  women  as  to  men. 

Although  nothing  could  be  more  revolting 
to  the  feelings  of  a  true-hearted  woman,  than 
needlessly  to  make  a  public  exposure  of  the 
weaknesses  and  follies  of  her  own  sex,  yet 
something  of  this  is  not  only  justifiable,  but 
necessary  in  the  present  case,  in  order  to 
contrast  the  conduct  of  those  who  are  truly 
admirable,  with  that  which  is  only  adopted 
for  the  purpose  of  courting  admiration.  Nor 
would  I  speak  uncharitably,  when  I  confess 
that,  like  others,  I  have  often  seen  a  droop- 
ing countenance  suddenly  grow  animated,  an 
oppressive  headache  suddenly  removed,  and 
many  other  symptoms  of  an  improved  state 
of  health  and  spirits  as  suddenly  exhibited, 
when  the  society  of  ladies  has  become 


varied  by  that  of  the  nobler  sex ;  and  never 
does  female  friendship  receive  a  deeper 
insult,  than  when  its  claims  are  thus  su- 
perseded by  those,  perhaps,  of  a  mere  stran- 
ger. 

Though  the  practice  of  flirtation,  or  the 
habit  of  making  use  of  certain  arts  of  pleasing 
in  the  society  of  men,  which  are  not  used  in 
that  of  women,  is  a  thing  of  such  frequent 
occurrence,  that  few  can  be  said  to  be  wholly 
exempt  from  it — yet  we  rarely  find  a  woman 
so  lost  to  all  sense  of  delicacy,  as  to  make  an 
open  profession  of  flirtation.  Indeed,  I  am 
convinced  that  some  do  actually  practise  it 
unconsciously  to  themselves ;  and  for  this 
reason  I  am  the  more  anxious  to  furnish 
them  with  a  few  hints,  by  which  they  may  be 
better  able  to  detect  the  follies  of  their  own 
conduct 

In  the  first  place,  then,  allow  me  to  ask, 
why  it  is  necessary,  or  even  desirable,  for 
young  women  to  do  more  to  please  men  than 
women  1  Their  best  friends,  as  friends  only, 
will  ever  be  found  among  their  own  sex. 
There  is  but  one  relation  in  life  in  which  any 
of  the  men  whom  they  meet  with  in  mixed 
society  can  be  any  thing  to  them ;  and  surely 
they  can  have  no  thought  of  marrying  half 
those  whom  they  take  more  pains  to  please, 
than  they  take  in  their  intercourse  with  their 
own  sex.  What,  then,  can  be  the  state  of 
mind  of  her  who  exercises  all  her  powers  of 
fascination  upon  beings  in  whom  she  can  have 
no  deep  or  real  interest  1  She  must  have 
some  strong  motive,  or  why  this  total  change 
in  her  behavior,  so  that  her  female  friends 
can  scarcely  recognise  in  her  the  same  indi- 
vidual, who,  an  hour  before,  was  moping, 
fretful,  listless,  and  weary  of  herself  and 
them  1  She  must  have  some  strong  motive, 
and  it  can  be  no  other  than  one  of  these 
two — either  to  gain  the  admiration,  or  the 
affection,  of  all  those  whom  she  favors  with 
the  full  exhibition  of  her  accomplishments  in 
the  art  of  pleasing.  If  her  motive  be  simply 
to  gain  their  admiration,  it  is  a  blind  and 
foolish  mistake  into  which  her  vanity  has  be- 
trayed her,  to  suppose  that  admiration  is  to 
be  purchased  by  display,  or  to  imagine  that 


FRIENDSHIP  AND  FLIRTATION. 


f»7 


the  open  and  undisguised  claims  she  makes 
upon  it,  are  not  more  calculated  to  disgust 
than  attract. 

But  there  remains  the  second,  and  stronger 
motive  ;  and  this  would  seem,  at  first  sight, 
to  demand  more  delicacy  of  treatment,  since 
it  is  generally  considered  an  amiable  propen- 
sity in  woman's  nature  to  desire  to  be  be- 
loved. Let  her,  however,  be  honest,  sincere, 
and  honorable,  in  the  means  she  adopts  for 
the  gratification  of  this  desire.  Let  her  re- 
quire nothing  for  which  she  is  riot  prepared 
to  make  an  adequate  return.  The  kindness, 
the  generosity,  the  integrity  of  her  character 
demand  this.  If,  therefore,  her  desire  be  to 
obtain  the  love  of  all  those  with  whom  she 
engages  in  the  business  of  flirtation,  she  is 
either  on  the  one  hand  involved  in  a  very 
serious  and  alarming  outlay  of  affection,  or, 
on  the  other,  in  a  system  of  selfishness  and 
meanness,  for  which  every  honest-hearted 
woman  ought  to  blush.  I  have  used  the 
words  selfishness  and  meanness,  because  the 
art  of  flirtation  deserves  to  be  described  by 
no  better  ;  because  it  is  selfish  to  endeavor  to 
obtain  that  for  which  we  know  that  a  return 
will  be  expected,  which  we  are  not  the  least 
prepared  to  make  ;  because  it  is  mean  to  use, 
in  obtaining  it,  a  degree  of  art  which  makes 
us  appear  better,  or  more  admirable,  than  we 
really  are. 

Is  it  not  good,  then,  for  woman  to  bear 
about  with  her,  even  in  early  life,  the  convic- 
tion that  her  only  business  with  men  in  society, 
is  to  learn  of  them,  and  not  to  captivate  or 
dazzle  them  ]  for  there  is  a  boldness — an  in- 
delicacy, in  this  exercise  of  her  influence,  as 
much  at  variance  with  good  taste,  as  with 
right  principle,  and  real  feeling.  Is  it  not 
good,  also,  to  bear  about  with  her  the  remem- 
brance that  no  woman  ought  to  be  so  bril- 
liant, or  so  agreeable  in  mixed  society,  as  in 
her  own  domestic  circle  ]  There  is  no  harm  in 
pleasing,  it  is  at  once  her  privilege,  and  her 
power ;  but  let  her  influence  through  the  exer- 
cise of  this  means  be  what  it  may,  there  will 
come  in  after  life  sore  trials,  under  which  she 
will  need  it  all ;  and  poor  indeed  is  that  woman, 
who,  when  affection  wanes,  and  disappoint- 


ment chills  the  glow  of  youthful  ardor,  feels 
that  she  has  expended  all  her  powers  of  pleas- 
ing in  public,  or  upon  comparative  strangers. 

I  have  said,  that  all  women  plead  not  guil- 
ty to  the  charge  of  flirtation  in  themselves  ; 
yet,  all  are  ready  to  detect  and  despise  it  in 
their  friends.  All  can  detect  in  others,  when 
the  bland  and  beaming  smile  is  put  on  for  the 
occasion ;  when  expressive  looks  are  inter- 
changed ;  when  glittering  curls  are  studious- 
ly displayed ;  when  songs  are  impressively 
sung.;  when  flowers  which  have  been  pre- 
sented, are  preserved  and  worn  ;  when  un- 
necessary attentions  are  artfully  called  forth ; 
but,  above  all,  for  it  is  best  to  cut  short  this 
catalogue  of  folly,  when  conversation  is  so  in- 
geniously turned  as  to  induce,  and  almost 
compel  some  personal  allusion,  in  which  a 
compliment  must  almost  unavoidably  be 
couched. 

And  in  all  this  system  of  absurdity,  contain- 
ing items  of  folly  too  numerous  for  tongue  or 
pen  to  tell,  from  the  glance  of  a  beautiful  eye, 
to  the  expression  of  a  mutual  sentiment ;  from 
the  gathering  of  a  favorite  flower,  to  the  awa- 
kening of  a  dormant  passion  ;  from  the  pas- 
time of  an  idle  moment,  to  the  occupation  of 
years ;  in  all  this,  it  is  deeply  to  be  regretted, 
that  the  influence  of  man  is  such,  as  to  excite, 
rather  than  to  repress — to  encourage  this 
worse  than  folly,  rather  than  to  warn  and  to 
correct  Indeed,  whatever  may  be  the  excel- 
lences of  man  in  every  other  walk  of  life,  it 
is  a  subject  of  something  more  than  regret, 
that  these  excellences  are  so  little  called  forth 
in  his  intercourse  with  woman  in  mixed  soci- 
ety. As  a  father,  a  husband,  a  brother,  and 
a  friend,  his  character  assumes  a  totally  dif- 
ferent aspect.  And  why,  I  would  ask  of  him, 
if  his  eye  should  ever  deign  to  glance  over 
these  pages, — why  is  he  not  the  friend  of  wo- 
man in  society,  as  well  as  in  the  more  inti- 
mate relations  of  social  and  domestic  life] 

Time  was,  when  warriors  and  heroes  deem- 
ed it  not  incompatible  with  glory  or  renown, 
to  make  the  cause  of  helpless  woman  theirs. 
Nay,  such  was  the  respect  in  which  her  claims 
were  held,  that  the  banner  could  not  wave  in 
battle,  nor  the  laurel  wreath  m  peace,  so 


THE  DAUGHTERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


proudly  as  when  lances  were  broken,  and 
lays  were  sung,  in  defence  of  her  fair  fame. 
On  what  did  that  fame  then  rest  1 — on  what 
must  it  rest  forever  1  On  her  moral  purity — 
on  her  exemption  from  mean  and  grovelling 
thoughts,  and  on  her  aspirations  after  what 
is  noble,  and  refined,  and  true.  And  is  wo- 
man less  deserving  now,  than  she  was  a 
thousand  years  ago,  of  the  kindness,  the  pro- 
tection, the  honorable  and  fair  dealing,  of  man  1 
So  far  from  this,  she  has  made  rapid  progress 
in  the  work  of  moral  renovation,  having  gain- 
ed in  real  worth,  more  than  she  has  lost 
in  romantic  feeling.  But  one  hindrance  to 
her  improvement  still  remains— one  barrier 
against  her  progress  in  the  path  of  wisdom 
and  of  truth.  It  is  the  influence  of  man,  in 
his  intercourse  with  her  in  general  society. 

Perhaps  he  is  not  aware  how  powerful  and 
extensive  this  influence  is,  or  he  would  sure- 
ly sometimes  endeavor  to  turn  it  to  better  ac- 
count I  wish  not  to  describe  it  in  too  flatter- 
ing a  manner,  by  telling  how  many  ^a  youner 
heart  is  made  to  throb  for  the  first  time  with 
vanity,  and  idle  thoughts,  and  foolish  calcu- 
lations, in  consequence  of  his  flattery  and  at- 
tentions ;  but  it  is  most  important  he  should 
know,  that  while  women  naturally  and  ne- 
cessarily look  to  the  stronger  sex  to  give  char- 
acter and  decision  to  their  own  sentiments  ; 
it  is  in  the  common  intercourse  of  society, 
that  such  sentiments  are  implanted,  fostered, 
and  matured. 

To  speak  of  the  popular  style  of  conversa- 
tion used  by  gentlemen  when  making  them- 
selves agreeable  to  young  ladies,  as  trifling, 
is  the  best  thing  we  can  say  of  it  Its  worst 
characteristic  is  its  falsehood,  while  its  worst 
tendency  is  to  call  forth  selfishness,  and  to 
foster  that  littleness  of  mind,  for  which  man 
is  avowedly  the  despiser  of  woman.  If  intel- 
lectual conversation  occupies  the  company, 
how  often  does  he  turn  to  whisper  nonsense 
to  woman ;  if  he  sees  her  envious  of  the  beau- 
ty of  her  friend,  how  often  does  he  tell  her 
that  her  own  charms  are  unrivalled  ;  if  he 
discovers  that  she  is  foolishly  elated  with  the 
triumph  of  having  gained  his  attentions,  how 
studiously  does  he  feed  her  folly,  waiting  only 


for  the  next  meeting  with  a  boon  companion, 
to  treat  the  whole  with  that  ridicule  which  it 
deserves — deserves,  but  not  from  him. 

It  may  be — I  would  fain  believe  it  is,  his 
wish  that  woman  should  be  simple-hearted, 
intelligent,  generous,  frank,  and  true ;  but  how 
is  his  influence  in  society  exercised  to  make 
her  any  one  of  these  ?  Woman  is  blamed, 
and  justly  so,  for  idle  thoughts,  and  trifling 
conversation ;  but,  I  appeal  to  experience,  and 
ask,  whether,  when  a  young  girl  first  goes  in- 
to society,  her  most  trifling  conversation  is  not 
that  which  she  shares  with  men  7  It  is  true 
that  woman  has  the  power  to  repel  by  a  look, 
a  word,  or  even  a  tone  of  her  voice,  the  ap- 
proach of  falsehood  or  folly  ;  and  admirable 
are  the  instances  we  sometimes  find  of  wo- 
man thus  surrounded  as  it  were  by  an  atmo- 
sphere of  moral  purity,  through  which  no  vul- 
gar touch  can  penetrate.  But  all  are  not  thus 
happily  sustained,  and  it  seems  hard  that  the 
weaker  sex  should  not  only  have  to  contend 
with  the  weakness  of  their  own  hearts  ;  but 
that  they  should  find  in  this  conflict,  so  much 
of  the  influence  of  man  on  the  side  of  evil. 

In  speaking  of  friendship,  I  have  said  noth- 
ing of  that  which  might  be  supposed  to  ex- 
ist between  the  two  sexes ;  because  I  believe, 
that,  in  early  youth,  but  little  good  can  accrue 
to  either  party  from  making  the  experiment ; 
and  chiefly  for  reasons  already  stated,  that 
man,  in  his  intercourse  with  woman,  seldom 
studies  her  improvement ;  and  that  woman, 
in  hers  with  man,  is  too  much  addicted  to 
flirtation.  The  opinion  of  the  world,  also,  is 
opposed  to  this  kind  of  intimacy  ;  and  it  is 
seldom  safe,  and  never  wise,  to  do  what  soci- 
ety unanimously  condemns.  Besides  which, 
it  is  exceedingly  difficult  for  a  young  and  in- 
experienced girl  to  know  when  a  man  is  real- 
ly her  friend,  and  when  he  is  only  endeavor- 
ing to  gain  her  favor  ;  the  most  serious  mis- 
takes are,  therefore,  always  liable  to  be  made, 
which  can  only  be  effectually  guarded  against, 
by  avoiding  such  intimacies  altogether. 

Again,  it  is  no  uncommon  thing  for  men  to 
betray  young  women  into  little  deviations 
from  the  strict  rule  of  propriety,  for  their  own 
sakes,  or  in  connection  with  them ;  which 


FRIENDSHIP  AND  FLIRTATION. 


99 


deviations  they  would  be  the  first  to  con- 
demn, if  they  were  in  favor  of  another.  Be 
assured,  however,  that  the  man  who  does 
this — who,  for  his  own  gratification  betrays 
you  into  so  much  as  the  shadow  of  an  error 
— who  even  willingly  allows  you  to  be  placed 
in  an  exposed,  a  questionable,  or  even  an 
undignified  situation — in  short,  who  subjects 
you,  for  his  own  sake,  to  the  slightest  breath 
of  censure,  or  even  of  ridicule,  is  not  your 
real  friend,  nor  worthy  so  much  as  to  be 
called  your  acquaintance. 

Fain  would  we  hope  and  trust,  that  men 
who  would  do  this,  are  exceptions  to  a  gen- 
eral rule  ;  and,  honorable  it  is  to  the  sex,  that 
there  are  those,  who,  without  any  personal 
interest  of  their  own   being  involved,   are 
truly  solicitous  to  raise  the  moral  and  intel- 
lectual  standard  of  excellence  among  wo- 
men ;  men  who  speak  the  truth,  and  noth- 
ing but  the  truth,  even  to  the  trusting  and 
too   credulous ;   who   never,  for  the  gratifi- 
cation of  an  idle  moment,  stoop  to  lead  the 
unwise    still    further    into   folly,  the  weak 
into  difficulty,  or  the  helpless  into  distress  ; 
men   who  are   not   satisfied  merely  to  pro- 
tect the   feeble   portion   of  the  community, 
but  who  seek  to  promote  the  safety  and  the 
happiness  of  woman,  by  placing  her  on  the 
sure   foundation  of  sound   principle ;   men 
who  are  ready  to  convince  her,  if  she  would 
but  listen  to  their  faithful  teaching,  that  she 
possesses  no  beauty  so  attractive  as  her  sim- 
plicity of  heart,  no   charm  so  lasting  as  her 
deep  and  true  affection,  and  no  influence  so 
powerful  as  her  integrity  and  truth. 

I  cannot  leave  the  subject  of  the  genera 
behavior  of  women  to  the  other  sex,  without 
adverting  to  a  popular  tendency  among  the 
young  and  inexperienced,  to  attach  undue 
importance   to   the   casual  notice  of  distin- 
guished men ;  such  as  popular  speakers,  elo- 
quent ministers  of  religion,  or  any  who  hold 
conspicuous  situations  in  society.    The  mos 
j  objectionable  feature  which  this  tendency  as- 
I  sumes,  is  an  extravagant  and  enthusiast! 
attachment  to  ministers  of  religion.    I   am 
aware  there  is  much  in  the  character  and  oi 
fice  of  a  faithful  minister,  justly  calculated  t 


all  forth  the  respectful  admiration  both  of 
oung  and  old ;  that  there  is  also  much  in 
his  pastoral  care  of  the  individual  members 
of  his  flock  equally  calculated  to  awaken 
eelings  of  deep  and  strong  attachment ;  and 
when  such  feelings  are  tempered  with  rev- 
rence,  and  kept  under  the  proper  restraint 
of  prudence  and  good  taste,  it  is  unquestion- 
ably right  that  they  should  be  cherished. 
My  remarks  can  have  no  reference  to  young 
women  whose  conduct  is  thus  regulated ;  but 
here  are  others,  chiefly  of  enthusiastic  tem- 
jerament,  who,  under  the  impression  that  it 
s  right  to  love  and  admire  to  the  utmost  of 
:heir  power,  whoever  is  worthy  of  admira- 
tion, give  way  to  a  style  of  expression,  when 
speaking  of  their  favorite  ministers,  and  a 
mode  of  behavior  towards  them,  which  is  not 
only  peculiarly  adapted  to  expose  them,  as 
religious  professors,  to  the  ridicule  of  the 
world ;  but  which,  of  itself,  too  plainly  be- 
trays their  want  of  reverence  and  right  feel- 
ing on  the  subject  of  religion  in  general. 

But  the  duties  of  friendship  remain  yet  to 
be  considered  in  their  highest  and  most  im- 
portant character.  We  have  never  been  in- 
timately associated  with  any  one,  even  in 
early  youth,  without  having  received  from 
them  some  bias  of  feeling,  either  towards  good 
or  evil ;  and  the  more  our  affections  were 
engaged  in  this  intimacy,  the  more  decidec 
this  bias  has  been.  What,  then,  has  been  the 
nature  of  our  influence  upon  them  ? — upon 
all  to  whose  bosom-confidence  we  have  been 
admitted]  Is  this  solemn  query  to  be  re- 
served for  the  hour  of  death?  or  is  it  not  the 
wiser  part  of  youth  to  begin  with  its  practica 
application,  while  the  character  is  yet  fresh 
and  pliant,  and  before  the  traces  of  our  influ 
ence,  if  wrong,  shall  have  become  too  dee] 
to  be  eradicated  ? 

If  your  friend  is  further  advanced  in  reli- 
gious experience  than  yourself,  be  willing 
then,  to  learn  from  her  example ;  but  be 
watchful,  also,  to  point  out  with  meekness 
and  gentleness  her  slightest  deviations  from 
the  line  of  conduct  which  a  Christian  pro- 
fessor ought  to  pursue ;  and  by  this  means 
you  may  not  only  materially  promote  her 


100 


THE  DAUGHTERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


highest  interests,  but  you  may  also  assist  in 
promoting  the  interests  of  religion  itself,  by 
preserving  it  from  the  calumny  and  disre- 
spect for  which  such  deviations  so  naturally 
give  occasion. 

If  your  friend  is  less  advanced  than  your- 
self in  religious  experience,  or  if,  as  is  most 
probable,  you  are  both  in  a  backward  and 
defective  state,  suffer  not  your  mind  on 
any  account  to  become  regardless  of  the  im- 
portant fact,  that  in  proportion  to  the  degree 
of  confidence  you  have  enjoyed  with  that 
friend,  and  in  proportion  with  the  hold  you 
have  obtained  of  her  affections,  is  the  re- 
sponsibility you  incur  with  regard  to  her 
moral  and  spiritual  advancement  It  is  fruit- 
less to  say,  "  I  see  her  faults,  I  mourn  over 
her  deviations,  but  I  dare  not  point  them 
out,  lest  I  wound  her  feelings,  or  offend  her 
pride."  I  know  the  task  is  difficult,  perhaps 
the  most  so  of  any  we  ever  undertake.  But 
our  want  of  disinterested  love,  and  of  real 
earnestness  in  the  cause  of  Christ,  render 
it  more  difficult  than  it  would  otherwise  be. 

We  might  in  this,  as  in  many  other  in- 
stances, derive  encouragement  from  what  is 
accomplished  by  women  in  the  way  of  sup- 
porting public  institutions,  and  promoting 
public  good.  Look  at  some  of  the  most  deli- 
cate and  sensitive  females — how  they  pene- 
trate the  abodes  pf  strangers — how  they  per- 
severe through  dangers  and  difficulties,  re- 
pelled by  no  contumely,  and  deterred  by  no 
hardship,  simply  because  they  know  that  the 
work  in  which  they  labor  is  the  cause  of 
Christ  And  shall  we  find  less  disinterested 
zeal,  less  ardor,  less  patience,  less  self-denial, 
in  bosom-friends  who  share  each  other's 
confidence  and  love ! 

I  am  the  more  anxious  to  impress  these 
observations  upon  the  young  reader,  because 
the  present  is  peculiarly  a  time  for  laudable 
and  extraordinary  exertions  for  the  public 
good  ;  and  because  I  am  convinced,  that  be- 
nevolent, and  highly  salutary,  as  these  exer- 
tions are,  they  will  never  so  fully  answer  the 
noble  end  desired,  as  when  supported  by  the 
same  principles  faithfully  acted  upon  in  the 
intimate  relations  of  private  life. 


CHAPTER  X. 

LOVE   AND   COURTSHIP. 

LOVE  is  a  subject  which  has  ever  been  open 
to  discussion,  among  persons  of  all  classes, 
and  of  every  variety  of  mind  and  character  ; 
yet,  after  all,  there  are  few  subjects  which 
present  greater  difficulties,  especially  to  a  fe- 
male writer.  How  to  compress  a  subject 
which  has  filled  so  many  volumes,  into  the 
space  of  one  chapter,  is  also  another  difficul- 
ty ;  but  I  will  begin  by  dismissing  a  large 
portion  of  what  is  commonly  called  by  that 
name,  as  wholly  unworthy  of  my  attention  ; 
I  mean  that  which  originates  in  mere  fancy, 
without  reference  to  the  moral  excellence  of 
the  object ;  and  if  my  young  readers  imagine, 
that  out  of  the  remaining  part  they  shall  be 
able  to  elicit  much  amusement,  I  fear  they 
will  be  disappointed ;  for  I  am  one  of  those 
who  think  that  the  most  serious  act  of  a  wo- 
man's whole  life  is  to  love. 

What,  then,  I  would  ask,  is  love,  that  it 
should  be  the  cause  of  some  of  the  deepest 
realities  in  our  experience,  and  of  so  much 
of  our  merriment  and  folly  1 

The  reason  why  so  many  persons  act  fool- 
ishly, and  consequently  lay  themselves  open 
to  ridicule,  under  the  influence  of  love,  I  be- 
lieve to  originate  in  the  grand  popular  mis- 
take of  dismissing  this  subject  from  our  se- 
rious reading  and  conversation,  and  leaving 
it  to  the  unceremonious  treatment  of  light 
novels,  and  low  jests;  by  which  unnatural 
system  of  philosophy,  that  which  is  in  reality 
the  essence  of  woman's  being,  and  the  high- 
est and  holiest  among  her  capabilities,  be- 
stowed for  the  purpose  of  teaching  us  of  how 
much  our  nature  is  capable  for  the  good  of 
others,  has  become  a  thing  of  sly  purpose, 
and  frivolous  calculation. 

The  very  expression — "  falling  in  love," 
has  done  an  incalculable  amount  of  mischief, 
by  conveying  an  idea  that  it  is  a  thing  which 
cannot  be  resisted,  and  which  must  be  given 
way  to,  either  with  or  without  reason.  Per- 
sons are  said  to  have  fallen  in  love,  pre- 
cisely as  they  would  be  said  to  have  fallen 
into  a  fever  or  an  ague-fit ;  and  the  worst 


LOVE  AND  COURTSHIP. 


101 


of  this  mode  of  expression  is,  that  among 
young  people,  it  has  led  to  a  general  yield- 
ing up  of  the  heart  to  the  first  impression, 
as  if  it  possessed  of  itself  no  power  of  re- 
sistance. 

It  is  from  general  notions  such  as  these, 
that  the  idea,  and  the  name  of  love,  have  be- 
come vulgarized  and  degraded :  and  in  con- 
nection with  this  degradation,  a  flood  of  evil 
has  poured  in  upon  that  Eden  of  woman's 
life,  where  the  virtues  of  her  domestic  charac- 
ter are  exercised. 

What,  then,  I  would  ask  again,  is  love  in 
its  highest,  holiest  character  1  It  is  woman's 
all — her  wealth,  her  power,  her  very  being. 
Man,  let  him  love  as  he  may,  has  ever  an 
existence  distinct  from  that  of  his  affections. 
He  has  his  worldly  interests,  his  public 
character,  his  ambition,  his  competition  with 
other  men — but  woman  centres  all  in  that 
one  feeling,  and 

"  In  that  she  lives,  or  else  she  has  no  life." 

In  woman's  love  is  mingled  the  trusting 
dependence  of  a  child,  for  she  ever  looks  up 
to  man  as  her  protector,  and  her  guide  ;  the 
frankness,  the  social  feeling,  and  the  tender- 
ness of  a  sister — for  is  not  man  her  friend  1 
the  solicitude,  the  anxiety,  the  careful  watch- 
ing of  the  mother — for  would  she  not  suffer 
to  preserve  him  from  harm  ]  Such  is  love 
in  a  noble  mind,  and  especially  in  its  first 
commencement,  when  it  is  almost  invariably 
elevated,  and  pure,  trusting,  and  disinterest- 
ed. Indeed,  the  woman  who  could  mingle 
low  views  and  selfish  calculations  with  her 
first  attachment,  would  scarcely  be  worthy  of 
the  name. 

So  far  from  this  being  the  case  with  wo- 
men in  general,  I  believe,  if  we  could  look 
into  the  heart  of  a  young  girl,  when  she  first 
begins  to  love,  we  should  find  the  nearest 
resemblance  to  what  poetry  has  described,  as 
the  state  of  our  first  parents  when  in  Para- 
dise, which  this  life  ever  presents.  All  is 
then  colored  with  an  atmosphere  of  beauty, 
and  light ;  or  if  a  passing  cloud  sails  across 
the  azure  sky,  reflecting  a  transitory  shadow 
on  the  scene  below,  it  is  but  to  be  swept  away 


by  the  next  balmy  gale,  which  leaves  the  pic- 
ture  more  lovely  for  this  momentary  interrup- 
tion of  its  stillness  and  repose. 

But  that  which  constitutes  the  essential 
charm  of  a  first  attachment,  is  its  perfect  dit-- 
interestedness.  She  who  entertains  this  sen- 
timent in' its  profoundest  character,  lU-fs  no 
longer  for  herself.  In  all  her  aspirations,  her 
hopes,  her  energies,  in  all  her  noble  daring, 
her  confidence,  her  enthusiasm,  her  fortitude, 
her  own  existence  is  absorbed  by  the  interests 
of  another.  For  herself,  and  in  her  own 
character  alone,  she  is  at  the  same  time  re- 
tiring, meek,  and  humble,  content  to  be  neg- 
lected by  the  whole  world — despised,  forgot- 
ten, or  contemned ;  so  that  to  one  being  only 
she  may  still  be  all  in  all. 

And  is  this  a  love  to  be  lightly  spoken  of, 
or  harshly  dealt  with  1  Oh  no ;  but  it  has 
many  a  rough  blast  to  encounter  yet,  and 
many  an  insidious  enemy  to  cope  with,  be- 
fore it  can  be  stamped  with  the  seal  of  faith- 
fulness ;  and  until  then,  who  can  distinguish 
the  ideal  from  the  true ! 

I  am  inclined  to  think  it  is  from  the  very 
purity  and  disinterestedness  of  her  own  mo- 
tives, that  woman,  in  cases  of  strong  attach- 
ment, is  sometimes  tempted  to  transgress  the 
laws  of  etiquette,  by  which  her  conduct,  even 
in  affairs  of  the  heart,  is  so  wisely  restricted. 
But  let  not  the  young  enthusiast  believe  her- 
self justified  in  doing  this,  whatever  may  be 
the  nature  of  her  own  sentiments.  The  re- 
strictions of  society  may  probably  appear  to 
her  both  harsh,  and  uncalled  for ;  but,  I  must 
repeat — society  has  good  reasons  for  the  rules 
it  lays  down  for  the  regulation  of  female  con- 
duct, and  she  ought  never  to  forget  that 
points  of  etiquette  ought  scrupulously  to  be 
observed  by  those  who  have  principle,  for 
the  sake  of  those  who  have  not  Besides 
which,  men  who  know  the  world  so  much 
better  than  women,  are  close  observers  on 
these  points,  and  nothing  can  lessen  their 
confidence  in  you  more  effectually,  than  to 
find  you  unscrupulous,  or  lax,  even  in  your 
behavior  to  them  individually.  If,  therefore, 
your  lover  perceives  that  you  are  regardless 
of  the  injunctions  of  your  parents  or  guardi- 


102 


THE  DAUGHTERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


ans,  even  for  his  sake,  though  possibly  he 
may  feel  gratified  at  the  moment,  yet  his 
opinion  of  your  principles  will  eventually  be 
lowered,  while  his  trust  in  your  faithfulness 
will  be  lessened  in  the  same  degree. 

In  speaking  of  the  entireness,  the  depth, 
and  the  disinterestedness  of  woman's  love,  I 
would  not  for  a  moment  be  supposed  to  class 
under  the  same  head,  that  precocious  ten- 
dency to  fall  in  love,  which  some  young  ladies 
encourage  under  the  idea  of  its  being  an 
amiable  weakness.  Never  is  the  character 
of  woman  more  despicable,  than  when  she 
stoops  to  plead  her  weakness  as  a  merit 
Yet  some  complain  that  they  are  naturally  so 
grateful,  it  is  impossible  for  them  to  resist  the 
influence  of  kindness ;  and  thus  they  fall  in 
love,  perhaps  with  a  worthless  man — perhaps 
with  two  men  at  once  ;  simply  because  they 
have  been  kindly  treated,  and  their  hearts 
are  not  capable  of  resisting  kindness.  Would 
that  such  puerile  suppliants  for  the  charity 
they  ill  deserve,  could  be  made  to  understand 
how  many  a  correct  and  prudent  woman 
would  have  gone  inconceivably  further  than 
they,  in  gratitude  and  generous  feeling,  had 
not  right  principle  been  made  the  stay  of  her 
conduct,  and  the  arbiter  of  all  her  actions. 
Love  which  arises  out  of  mere  weakness, 
is  as  easily  fixed  upon  one  object  as  another ; 
and  consequently  is  at  all  times  transferable  : 
that  which  is  governed  by  principle,  how 
much  has  it  to  suffer,  yet  how  nobly  does  it 
survive  all  trial ! 

I  have  said,  that  woman's  love,  at  least  all 
which  deserves  that  name,  is  almost  univer- 
sally exalted  and  noble  in  its  commence- 
ment ;  but  that  still  it  wants  its  highest  attri- 
bute, until  its  faithfulness  has  been  establish- 
ed by  temptation  and  trial.  Let  no  woman, 
therefore,  boast  of  her  constancy,  until  she 
has  been  put  to  the  test  In  speaking  of 
faithfulness,  I  am  far  from  supposing  it  to 
denote  merely  the  tenacity  of  adhering  to  an 
engagement  It  is  easy  to  be  true  to  an  en- 
gagement, while  false  to  the  individual  with 
whom  it  is  contracted.  My  meaning  refers 
to  faithfulness  of  heart,  ^nd  this  has  many 
trials  in  the  common  intercourse  of  society, 


in  the  flattery  and  attentions  of  men,  and  in 
the  fickleness  of  female  fancy. 

To  have  loved  faithfully,  then,  is  to  have 
loved  with  singleness  of  heart,  and  sameness 
of  purpose,  through  all  the  temptations  which 
society  presents,  and  under  all  the  assaults 
of  vanity,  both  from  within  and  without  It 
is  so  pleasant  to  be  admired,  and  so  soothing 
to  be  loved,  that  the  grand  trial  of  female 
constancy  is,  not  to  add  one  more  conquest 
to  her  triumphs,  where  it  is  evidently  in  her 
power  to  do  so ;  and,  therefore,  her  only  pro- 
tection is  to  restrain  the  first  wandering 
thought  which  might  even  lead  her  fancy 
astray.  The  ideas  which  commonly  float 
through  the  mind  of  woman,  are  so  rapid, 
and  so  indistinctly  defined,  that  when  the 
door  is  opened  to  such  thoughts,  they  pour 
in  like  a  torrent  Then  first  will  arise  some 
new  perception  of  deficiency  in  the  object  of 
her  love,  or  some  additional  impression  of 
his  unkindness  or  neglect,  with  comparisons 
between  him  and  other  men,  and  regret  that 
he  has  not  some  quality  which  they  possess, 
sadness  under  a  conviction  of  her  future  des- 
tiny, pining  for  sympathy  under  that  sadness, 
and,  lastly,  the  commencement  of  some  other 
intimacy,  which  at  first  she  has  no  idea  of 
converting  into  love. 

Such  is  the  manner  in  which,  in  thousands 
of  instances,  the  faithfulness  of  woman's 
love  has  been  destroyed,  and  destroyed  far 
more  effectually  than  if  assailed  by  an  open, 
and,  apparently,  more  formidable  foe.  And 
what  a  wreck  has  followed !  for  when  wo- 
man loses  her  integrity,  and  her  self-respect, 
•  she  is  indeed  pitiable  and  degraded.  While 
her  faithfulness  remains  unshaken,  it  is  true 
she  may,  and  probably  will,  have  much  to 
suffer ;  but  let  her  portion  in  this  life  be  what 
it  may,  she  will  walk  through  the  world  with 
a  firm  and  upright  "step  ;  for  even  when  soli- 
tary, she  is  not  degraded.  It  may  be  called 
a  cold  philosophy  to  speak  of  such  consola- 
tion being  available  under  the  suffering  which 
arises, from  unkindness  and  desertion,  but 
who  would  not  rather  be  the  one  to  bear  in- 
jury, than  the  one  to  inflict  it ;  and  the  very 
act  of  bearing  it  meekly  and  reverently,  as 


LOVE  AND  COURTSHIP. 


from  the  hand  of  God,  has  a  purifying  and 
solemnizing  effect  upon  the  soul,  which  the 
faithless  and  the  fickle  never  can  experi- 
ence. 

As  friendship  is  the  basis  of  all  true  love, 
it  is  equally — nay,  more  important  that  the 
latter  should  be  submitted  to  the  same  test 
in  relation  to  its  ultimate  aim,  which  ought 
supremely  to  be,  the  moral  and  spiritual  good 
of  its  object.  Indeed,  without  this  principle 
at  heart,  no  love  is  worthy  of  the  name  ;  be- 
cause, as  its  influence  upon  human  nature  is 
decidedly  the  most  powerful  of  any,  its  re- 
sponsibilities are  in  the  same  proportion  se- 
rious and  imperative.  What,  then,  shall  we 
think  of  the  woman  who  evinces  a  nervous 
timidity  about  the  personal  safety  of  her 
lover,  without  any  corresponding  anxiety 
about  the  safety  of  his  soul  ] 

But  there  is  another  delusion  equally  fatal 
with  this,  and  still  more  frequently  prevailing 
.among  well-meaning  young  woman ;  I  mean, 
that  of  listening  to  the  addresses  of  a  gay 
man,  and  making  it  the  condition  of  her  mar- 
rying him,  that  he  shall  become  religious. 
Some  even  undertake  to  convert  men  of  this 
description,  without  professing  any  personal 
interest  in  the  result ;  and  surely,  of  all  the 
mockeries  by  which  religion  is  insulted  in 
this  world,  these  are  among  the  greatest. 
They  are  such,  however,  as  invariably  bring 
their  own  punishment ;  and,  therefore,  a  little 
observation  upon  the  working  of  this  falla- 
cious system  upon  others,  will  probably  be  of 
more  service  to  the  young,  than  any  obser- 
vations I  can  offer.  I  cannot,  however  re- 
frain from  the  remark,  that  religion  being  a 
matter  of  personal  interest,  if  a  man  will  not 
submit  himself  to  its  influence  for  his  own 
sake,  it  is  not  likely  he  will  do  so  for  the  sake 
of  another ;  and  the  probability  is,  that,  while 
endeavoring  to  convert  him,  the  woman,  being 
the  weaker  party,  wiil  be  drawn  over  to  his 
views  and  principles ;  or  if  hers  should  be 
too  firm  for  this,  that  he  will  act  the  hypocrite 
in  order  to  deceive  her,  and  thus  add  a  new 
crime  to  the  sum  of  guilt  already  contracted. 
With  a  gay  man,  therefore,  a  serious  wo- 
man can  have  nothing  to  do,  but  to  contem- 


plate his  character  as  she  would  that  of  some 
being  of  a  different  order  or  species  from  her 
own.  Even  after  such  a  man  has  undergone 
a  moral  and  spiritual  change,  there  will  re- 
main something  in  his  tone  of  mind  and  feel- 
ing, from  which  a  delicate  and  sensitive  wo- 
man will  naturally  and  unavoidably  shrink. 
He  will  feel  this  himself;  and  while  the  hu- 
mility and  self-abasement  which  this  convic- 
tion occasions,  will  constitute  a  strong  claim 
upon  her  sympathy  and  tenderness,  they  will 
both  be  deeply  sensible  that,  in  his  heart  of 
hearts,  there  is  a  remembrance,  a  shadow,  a 
stain,  which  a  pure-minded  woman  must 
ever  feel  and  sorrow  for. 

"  But  how  are  we  to  know  a  man's  real 
character  V  is  the  common  question  of  young 
women.  Alas !  there  is  much  willing  decep- 
tion on  this  point  Yet,  I  must  confess,  that 
men  are  seldom  thoroughly  known,  except 
under  their  own  roof,  or  among  their  own 
companions.  With  respect  to  their  moral 
conduct,  however,  if  they  have  a  low  standard 
of  excellence  with  regard  to  the  female  sex 
in  general,  it  is  an  almost  infallible  sign  that 
their  education,  or  their  habits,  have  been 
such  as  to  render  them  undesirable  compan- 
ions in  the  most  intimate  and  indissoluble  ol 
all  connections.  Good  men  are  accustomec 
to  regard  women  as  equal  with  themselvei 
in  their  moral  and  religious  character,  anc 
therefore  they  seldom  speak  of  them  with 
disrespect ;  but  bad  men  having  no  such 
scale  of  calculation,  use  a  very  different  kinc 
of  phraseology,  when  women,  as  a  class,  are 
the  subject  of  conversation. 

Again,  the  world  is  apt  to  speak  of  men  as 
being  good  because  they  are  merely  moral 
But  it  would  be  a  safe  rule  for  all  Christiat 
women  to  reflect,  that  such  are  the  tempta 
tions  to  man  in  his  intercourse  with  the  world 
that  nothing  less  than  the  safeguard  of  reli 
gion  can  render  his  conduct  uniformly  mora1 
With  regard  to  the  social  and  domesti 
qualities  of  a  lover,  these  must  also  be  triec 
at  home.     If  disrespectful  to  his  mother,  and 
inconsiderate  or  ungentle  in  his  manners  to 
his  sisters,  or  even  if  accustomed  to  speak  o 
them  in  a  coarse,  unfeeling,  or  indifferen 


104 


THE  DAUGHTERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


manner,  whatever  may  be  his  intellectual  re- 
commendations, as  a  husband  he  ought  not 
to  be  trusted.  On  the  other  hand,  it  may  be 
set  down  as  an  almost  certain  rule,  that  the 
man  who  is  respectful  and  affectionate  to  lu's 
mother  and  his  sisters,  will  be  so  to  his  wife. 

Having  thus  described  in  general  terras 
the  manner  in  which  women  ought  to  love, 
the  next  inquiry  is,  under  what  circumstances 
this  feeling  may  be  properly  indulged.  The 
first  restriction  to  a  woman  of  delicacy,  of 
course,  will  be  never  to  entertain  this  senti- 
ment towards  one  by  whom  it  has  not  been 
sought  and  solicited.  Unfortunately,  how- 
ever, there  are  but  too  many  instances  in 
which  attentions,  so  pointed  as  not  to  be 
capable  of  being  misunderstood,  have  wan- 
tonly been  made  the  means  of  awakening 
something  more  than  a  preference ;  while  he 
who  had  thus  obtained  this  meanest  of  all 
triumphs,  could  smile  at  the  consequences, 
and  exult  in  his  own  freedom  from  any  direct 
committal. 

How  the  peace  of  mind  of  the  young  and 
the  trusting  is  to  be  secured  against  such  treat- 
ment, it  is  difficult  to  say  ;  unless  they  would 
adopt  the  advice  of  the  more  experienced, 
and  think  less  of  the  attentions  of  men  in 
general,  and  more  of  their  own  immediate 
and  practical  duties,  which,  after  all,  are  the 
best  preservatives,  not  only  against  indolence, 
melancholy,  and  romance ;  but  against  the 
almost  invariable  accompaniment  of  these 
evils — a  tendency  to  sentimental  attachments. 
I  am  aware  that  I  incur  the  risk  of  being  con- 
sidered among  young  ladies  as  too  homely 
in  my  notions,  even  for  an  admonitress,  when 
I  so  often  recommend  good  old-fashioned 
household  duties ;  yet,  I  believe  them  never- 
theless to  be  a  wholesome  medicine  both  to 
body  and  mind,  and  in  no  case  more  useful 
than  in  those  of  sentimentality. 

In  the  bestowment  of  the  affections,  few 
women  are  tempted  to  make  choice  of  men 
of  weak  capacity.  Still  there  is  sometimes  a 
plausible  manner,  a  gentlemanly  address,  or 
a  handsome  exterior,  which  serves  for  a 
while  to  bewilder  the  judgment,  so  as  to  con- 
ceal from  detection  the  emptiness  within.  It 


is  the  constitutional  want  of  woman's  nature 
to  have  some  superior  being  to  look  up  to  ; 
and  how  shall  a  man  of  weak  capacity  sup- 
ply this  want  ]  He  may  possibly  please  for 
an  hour,  or  a  day,  but  it  is  a  fearful  thought 
to  have  to  dwell  with  such  a  one  for  life. 

The  most  important  inquiry,  however,  to 
be  made  in  the  commencement  of  an  attach- 
ment, for  it  may  be  too  late  to  make  it  after- 
wards, is,  whether  the  object  of  it  inspires 
with  a  greater  love  of  all  that  is  truly  excel- 
lent— in  short,  whether  his  society  and  con- 
versation have  a  direct  tendency  to  make  re- 
ligion appear  more  lovely,  and  more  desira- 
ble. If  not,  he  can  be  no  safe  companion 
for  the  intimacy  of  married  life ;  for  you 
must  have  already  discovered,  that  your 
own  position  as  a  Christian,  requires  sup- 
port rather  than  opposition.  It  is  the  more 
important,  therefore,  that  this  inquiry  should 
be  most  satisfactorily  answered  in  an  early 
stage  of  the  attachment ;  because  it  is  the 
peculiar  nature  of  love  to  invest  with  ideal 
excellence  the  object  of  its  choice,  so  that 
after  it  has  once  obtained  possession  of  the 
heart,  there  ceases  too  generally  to  be  a  cor- 
rect perception  of  good  and  evil,  where  the 
interests  of  love  are  concerned. 

In  addition  to  this  tendency,  it  is  deeply  to 
be  regretted,  that  so  few  opportunities  are  af- 
forded to  women  in  the  present  state  of  so- 
ciety, of  becoming  acquainted  with  the  natu- 
ral dispositions  and  general  habits  of  those  to 
whom  they  intrust  their  happiness,  until  the 
position  of  both  is  fixed,  and  fixed  for  life. 
The  short  acquaintance  which  takes  place, 
under  ordinary  circumstances,  between  two 
individuals  about  to  be  thus  united,  for  better 
for  worse,  until  death  do  them  part,  is  any 
thing  but  a  mutual  development  of  real  char- 
acter. The  very  name  of  courtship  is  a  re- 
pulsive one ;  because  it  implies  merely  a  so- 
licitude to  obtain  favor,  but  has  no  reference 
to  deserving  it  When  a  man  is  said  to  be 
paying  his  court  to  an  individual  of  higher 
rank  or  authority,  he  is  universally  under- 
stood to  be  using  flattery  and  attention,  if  no* 
artifice,  to  purchase  what  his  merits  alone 
would  not  be  sufficient  to  command.  I  do 


LOVE  AND  COURTSHIP. 


not  say  that  a  similar  line  of  conduct  is  de- 
signedly pursued  by  the  lover,  because  I  be- 
lieve that  in  many  cases  he  would  be  glad  to 
have  his  character  more  clearly  understood 
than  it  is.  Yet,  here  we  see,  most  especially, 
the  evil  consequences  resulting  from  that 
system  of  intercourse,  which  prevails  be- 
tween the  two  sexes  in  general  society.  Bv 
the  time  a  young  woman  is  old  enough  to 
enter  into  a  serious  engagement,  she  has 
generally  become  so  accustomed  to  receive 
the  flattery  and  the  homage  of  men,  that  she 
would  feel  it  an  insult  to  be  treated  with  per- 
fect honesty  and  candor ;  while,  on  the  other 
hand,  her  lover  redoubles  his  assiduity  to 
convince  her,  that  if  not  actually  a  goddess, 
she  is  at  least  the  most  charming  of  her  sex. 
Need  we  be  surprised  if  there  ehould  often 
be  a  fearful  awaking  from  this  state  of  delu- 
sion 1 

I  must,  however,  in  justice  repeat,  that  the 
delusion  is  not  all  intentional  on  either  part, 
for  a  successful  suit  naturally  places  a  man 
in  so  agreeable  a  position,  that  his  temper 
and  disposition,  at  such  times,  appear  to  the 
best  possible  advantage  ;  while  on  the  other 
hand,  it  would  be  strange  indeed,  if  a  wo- 
man so  courted,  and  apparently  admired, 
could  not  maintain  her  sweetest  deportment, 
and  wear  her  blandest  smiles,  through  that 
short  period  which  some  unjustly  call  the 
happiest  of  her  life,  simply  because  it  is  the 
one  in  which  she  is  the  most  flattered,  and 
the  most  deceived. 

It  is  a  very  erroneous  notion,  entertained 
by  some  young  persons,  that  to  make  early 
pretensions  to  womanhood,  is  an  embellish- 
ment to  their  character,  or  a  means  of  in- 
creasing their  happiness.  Nothing  in  reality 
can  be  more  entirely  a  mistake.  One  of  the 
greatest  charms  which  a  girl  can  possess,  is 
that  of  being  contented  to  be  a  girl,  and  noth- 
ing more.  Her  natural  ease  of  manner,  her 
simplicity  of  heart,  her  frankness,  her  guileless 
and  confiding  truth,  are  all  opposed  to  the  pre- 
mature assumption  of  womanhood.  Even  her 
joyous  playfulness,  so  admirably  adapted  to 
promote  the  health  both  of  mind  and  body, — 
oh !  why  does  she  hasten  to  lay  all  this  aside  for 


the  mock  dignity  of  an  artificial  and  would- 
be  woman]  Believe  me,  the  latter  loses 
much  of  the  innocent  enjoyment  of  her  early 
years,  while  she  gains  in  nothing,  except  a 
greater  necessity  for  care  and  caution. 

Were  it  possible  to  induce  the  daughters 
of  England  to  view  this  subject  in  its  true 
light,  and  to  endeavor  to  prolong  rather  than 
curtail  the  season  of  their  simplicity  and 
buoyancy  of  heart;  how  much  would  be 
avoided  of  that  absurd  miscalculation  about 
the  desirableness  of  contracting  matrimonial 
alliances,  which  plunges  hundreds  and  thou- 
sands into  the  responsible  situation  of  wives 
and  mothers,  before  they  have  well  learned 
to  be  rational  women  ! 

A  cheerful,  active,  healthy,  and  sound- 
minded  girl,  is  ever  the  first  to  glow  with 
the  genuine  impulse  of  what  is  noble  and 
generous  in  feeling,  thought,  and  action  ;  and 
at  the  same  time  she  is  the  last  to  be  imposed 
upon  by  whdt  is  artificial,  false,  or  merely 
superficial ;  for  there  seems  to  be  a  power  in 
unsophisticated  nature,  to  repel  as  if  by  in- 
stinct the  mean  stratagems  of  art.  The 
vain,  the  sentimental,  would-be  woman,  sick- 
ly for  want  of  natural  exercise,  and  disap- 
pointed in  her  precocious  attempts  at  dignity 
and  distinction,  is  the  last  to  yield  herself  to 
any  genuine  impulse  ;  because  she  must  in- 
quire whether  it  is  lady-like  and  becoming ; 
but,  alas  for  her  peace  of  mind  !  she  is  the 
first  to  listen  to  the  voice  of  flattery,  and  to 
sink  into  all  the  absurdities  of  an  early,  a 
misplaced,  or  an  imaginary  attachment. 

It  is  not  indeed  in  the  nature  of  things,  that 
a  young  girl  should  know  how  to  bestow  her 
affections  aright  She  has  not  had  experi- 
ence enough  in  the  ways  of  the  world,  or 
penetrated  sufficiently  through  the  smiling 
surface  of  society,  to  know  that  some  who  are 
the  most  attractive  in  their  address  and  man- 
ners, are  the  least  calculated  for  fireside  com- 
panions. They  know,  if  they  would  but  be- 
lieve what  their  more  experienced  relatives 
tell  them,  that  the  happiness  of  marriage  must 
depend  upon  suitability  of  character ;  yet, 
even  of  this  they  are  incompetent  to  judge, 
and  consequently  they  are  betrayed  into  mis- 


THE  DAUGHTERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


takes  sometimes  the  most  fatal  to  their  true 
interests,  both  here  and  hereafter. 

How  much  wiser  then  is  the  part  of  her, 
who  puts  off  these  considerations  altogether, 
until  a  period  of  greater  maturity  of  judgment, 
•when  much  that  once  looked  dazzling  and 
attractive  shall  have  lost  its  false  splendor ; 
and  when  many  qualifications  of  heart  and 
mind,  to  which  she  once  attached  but  little 
value,  shall  have  obtained  their  due  share  of 
importance  in  her  calculations  !  Her  heart 
will  then  be  less  subject  to  the  dictates  of  ca- 
pricious fancy ;  and,  looking  at  human  life, 
and  society,  and  mankind  as  they  really  are ; 
looking  at  herself,  too,  with  a  clearer  vision, 
and  a  more  oecided  estimate  of  truth,  she  will 
be  able  to  form  a  correct  opinion  on  that 
point  of  paramount  importance — suitability 
of  character  and  habits. 

Influenced  by  a  just  regard  to  this  consid- 
eration, a  sensible  woman  will  easily  see  that 
the  man  of  her  choice  must  be  as  much  as 
possible  in  her  own  sphere  of  life.  Deficient 
in  education,  he  would  be  a  rude  and  coarse 
companion  for  a  refined  woman  ;  and  with 
much  higher  attainments  than  her  own,  he 
would  be  liable  to  regard  her  with  disrespect, 
if  not  with  contempt 

By  a  fatal  misapprehension  of  what  con- 
stitutes real  happiness,  it  is  often  spoken  of 
as  a  good  and  great  thing,  when  a  woman 
raises  herself  to  a  higher  sphere  of  society  by 
marriage.  Could  such  individuals  tell  the 
story  of  their  after  lives,  it  would  often  be  a 
history  of  humiliation  and  sorrow,  for  which 
no  external  advantages  had  been  able  to  com- 
pensate. There  are,  however,  admirable  in- 
stances of  women,  thus  exalted,  who  have 
maintained  their  own  dignity,  and  the  respect 
of  all  their  connections  ;  so  much  more  impor- 
tant is  moral  worth  than  intellectual  cultiva- 
tion, to  a  woman.  In  these  cases,  however, 
the  chief  merit  of  the  wife  has  been,  that  she 
never  sought  her  elevation. 

Having  chosen  your  lover  for  his  suitabili- 
ty, it  is  of  the  utmost  consequence,  that  you 
should  guard  against  that  natural  propensity 
of  the  youthful  mind,  to  invest  him  with  ev- 
ery ideal  excellence.  Endeavor  to  be  satis- 


fied with  him  as  he  is,  rather  than  imagine  him 
what  he  never  can  be.  It  will  save  you  a 
world  of  disappointment  in  after  life.  Nor, 
indeed,  does  this  extravagant  investiture  of 
the  fancy  belong,  as  is  sometimes  supposed, 
to  that  meek,  and  true,  and  abiding  attach- 
ment which  it  is  woman's  highest  virtue  and 
noblest  distinction  to  feel.  I  strongly  suspect 
it  is  vanity,  and  not  affection,  which  leads  a 
young  woman  to  believe  her  lover  perfect ; 
because  it  enhances  her  triumph  to  be  the 
choice  of  such  a  man.  The  part  of  a  true- 
hearted  woman,  is  to  be  satisfied  with  her  lov- 
er, such  as  he  is,  and  to  consider  him,  with  all 
his  faults,  as  sufficiently  exalted,  and  suffi- 
ciently perfect  for  her.  No  after-develop- 
ment of  character  can  shake  the  faith  of  such 
a  woman,  no  ridicule  or  exposure  can  weak- 
en her  tenderness  for  a  single  moment ;  whilei 
on  the  other  hand,  she  who  has  blindly  be- 
lieved her  lover  to  be  without  a  fault,  must 
ever  be  in  danger  of  awaking  to  the  convic- 
tion that  her  love  exists  no  longer. 

Though  truth  should  be  engraven  upon  ev- 
ery thought,  and  word,  and  act,  which  occurs 
in  your  intercourse  with  the  man  of  your 
choice,  there  is  implanted  in  the  nature  of  wo- 
man, a  shrinking  delicacy,  which  ought  ever 
to  prompt  her  to  keep  back  some  of  her  affec- 
tion for  the  time  when  she  becomes  a  wife. 
No  woman  ever  gained,  but  many,  very  ma- 
ny, have  been  losers,  by  displaying  all  at  first 
Let  sufficient  of  your  love  be  told,  to  prevent 
suspicion,  or  distrust ;  and  the  self-compla- 
cency of  man  will  be  sure  to  supply  the  rest. 
Suffer  it  not,  then,  to  be  unfolded"  to  its  full 
extent  In  the  trials  of  married  life,  you  will 
have  ample  need  for  an  additional  supply. 
You  will  want  it  for  sickness,  for  sorrow,  for 
all  the  different  exigences  of  real  experience ; 
but,  above  all,  you  will  want  it  to  re-awaken 
the  tenderness  of  your  husband,  when  world- 
ly cares  and  pecuniary  disappointments  have 
too  much  absorbed  his  better  feelings ;  and 
what  surprise  so  agreeable  to  him,  as  to  dis- 
cover, in  his  further  progress  through  the  wil- 
derness of  life,  so  sweet,  so  deep  a  fountain, 
as  woman's  perfect  love  ? 

This  prudent  and  desirable  restraint  of  fe- 


LOVE  AND  COURTSHIP. 


107 


male  delicacy  during  the  period  of  courtship, 
will  prevent  those  dangerous  demands  be- 
ing made  upon  mere  affection  to  supply  inter- 
est for  an  occasion,  which  after  all,  and  par- 
ticularly to  men  of  business,  is  apt  to  be  rath- 
er a  tedious  one.  Let  your  amusements, 
then,  even  during  that  period,  be  of  an  intellec-  ' 
tual  nature,  that  your  lover  may  never  even 
for  a  single  moment  have  occasion  to  feel  that 
your  society  grows  vapid,  or  palls  upon  his 
taste.  It  is  better  a  thousand  times,  that  read- 
ing or  conversation,  or  the  company  of  others, 
should  be  forced  upon  him,  so  that  he  should 
regret  having  had  so  little  of  yours,  than  that 
the  idea  should  once  glance  across  his  mind, 
that  he  had  had  too  much,  or  that  the  time 
spent  with  you  had  not  passed  so  pleasantly 
as  he  had  expected. 

It  is  a  fact  too  little  taken  into  account  by 
young  women,  that  until  actually  married, 
their  relative  and  home  duties  are  the  same 
after  an  engagement  has  been  contracted,  as 
before.  When  a  daughter  begins  to  neglect 
a  father  or  a  brother,  for  the  sake  of  her  lov- 
er, it  is  a  bad  omen  for  his  happiness.  Her 
attentions  in  this  case  are  dictated  by  impulse, 
not  duty  ;  and  the  same  misapprehension  of 
what  is  just,  and  right,  will  in  future  be  equal- 
ly likely  to  divert  them  again  from  their  prop- 
er object.  It  is  good  even  to  let  your  lover 
see,  that  such  is  your,  estimate  of  duty,  that 
you  can  afford  even  to  lose  his  society  for  a 
few  minutes,  rather  than  neglect  the  claims 
of  your  family. 

I  have  now  imagined  a  young  woman 
brought  into  the  most  serious  position  she 
has  yet  occupied ;  and  if  her  mind  is  rightly 
influenced,  she  will  feel  it  to  be  one  of  deep 
and  solemn  consideration.  If,  during  the 
lapse  of  her  previous  existence,  she  has  lived 
for  herself  alone,  now  is  the  time  when  her 
regrets  are  about  to  begin ;  if,  as  I  have  so 
earnestly  recommended,  she  has  studious- 
ly cultivated  habits  of  duty,  and  thoughts  of 
affectionate  and  grateful  regard  towards  her 
home-connections,  now  is  the  time  when  she 
will  fully  enter  upon  the  advantages  of  hav- 
ing regulated  her  conduct  by  the  law  of  love. 
Already  she  will  have  begun  to  contemplate 


the  character  of  man  in  a  new  light.  Admit- 
ted to  his  confidence,  she  will  find  him  at  the 
same  time  more  admirable,  and  more  requir- 
ing as  regards  herself,  than  she  found  him  in 
society  ;  and  while  her  esteem  increases  with 
the  development  of  his  real  merits,  she  will 
feel  her  affection  equal  to  every  demand,  fo: 
she  will  be  rich  in  that  abundance  which 
the  heart  alone  can  supply,  whose  warmes' 
emotions  have  been  called  forth  and  cherish 
ed  in  the  genial  and  healthy  atmosphere  o 
domestic  life. 

One  word,  before  this  chapter  closes,  U 
those  who  have  arrived  at  years  of  woman 
hood  without  having  known  what  it  was  U 
engage  the  attentions  of  a  lover ;   and  oJ 
such  I  must  observe,  that  by  some  unac 
countable  law  of  nature,  they  often  appea 
to  be  the  most  admirable  of  their  sex.    In 
deed,  while  a  sparkling  countenance,  an  eas) 
manner,  and,  to  say  the  least  of  it,  a  wil 
lingness  to  be  admired,  attract  a  crowd  of 
lovers — it  not  unfrequently  happens,  that  re- 
tiring merit,  and  unostentatious  talent,  scarce- 
ly secure  the  homage  of  one.    And  yet,  or 
looking  around  upon  society,  one  sees   sc 
many  of  the  vain,  the  illiterate,  and  the  utter- 
ly useless,  chosen   and   solicited  as  wives, 
that  we  are  almost  tempted  to  consider  those 
who  are  not  thus  favored,  as  in  reality  the 
most   honorably  distinguished   among  their 
sex. 

Still,  I  imagine  there  are  few,  if  any,  who 
never  have  had  a  suitable  or  unsuitable  offei 
at  some  time  in  their  lives ;  and  wise  indeed 
by  comparison,  are  those  who,  rather  than 
accept  the  latter,  are  content  to  enjoy  the 
pleasures,  and  endure  the  sorrows  of  life, 
alone.  Compare  their  lot  for  an  instant  with 
that  of  women  who  have  married  from  un- 
worthy motives.  How  incomparably  more 
dignified,  more  happy,  and  more  desirable  in 
every  way,  does  it  appear  !  It  is  true  there 
are  times  in  their  experience  when  they  will 
have  to  bear  what  woman  bears  so  hardly — 
the  consciousness  of  being  alone  ;  but  they 
escape  an  evil  far  more  insupportable — that 
of  being  a  slighted  or  an  unloved  wife. 

If  my  remarks  throughout  this  work  have 


108 


THE  DAUGHTERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


appeared  to  refer  directly  to  a  moral  training 
for  the  married  state,  it  has  not  been  from 
any  want  of  interest  in  those,  of  whom  I 
purpose  to  speak  more  fully  hereafter,  who 
never  enter  upon  this  condition,  but  simply 
because  I  believe  the  moral  training  which 
prepares  a  woman  for  one  sphere  of  duty,  is 
equally  productive  of  benefit  if  she  fills  an- 
other ;  and  I  rest  this  belief  upon  my  con- 
viction,  that  all  the  loveliest  and  most  esti- 
mable propensities  of  woman's  nature,  were 
bestowed  upon  her  for  early  and  continued 
exercise  in  a  strictly  relative  capacity  ;  and 
that,  whether  married  or  single,  she  will 
equally  find  the  law  of  Christian  love  the 
only  certain  rule  by  which  to  regulate  her 
conduct,  so  as  to  render  her  either  happy 
herself,  or  the  promoter  of  happiness  in  oth- 
ers. 


CHAPTER  XL 

SELFISHNESS,   VANITY,   ARTIFICE,    AND    INTEG- 
RITY. 

IT  is  my  intention  to  occupy  the  present 
chapter  with  further  observations  upon  the 
three  great  enemies  to  woman's  advance- 
ment in  moral  excellence — selfishness,  vani- 
ty, and  artifice,  as  opposed  to  her  disinter- 
estedness, simplicity  of  heart,  and  integrity. 

It  seems  to  be  a  strange  anomaly  in  her 
nature,  that  in  connection  with  all  which  wo- 
man is  capable  of  doing  and  suffering  for  the 
good  of  others,  there  should  lurk  about  her 
heart  a  peculiar  kind  of  selfishness,  which 
the  strong  discipline  of  personal  trial,  and 
often  of  severe  affliction,  is  frequently  re- 
quired to  subdue.  It  is  justly  remarked  of 
woman,  that  in  cases  of  afflictive  dispensa- 
tion, the  qualities  of  her  heart  and  mind 
generally  appear  to  the  greatest  advantage, 
and  none  of  them  more  so,  than  her  devoted- 
ness  ;  by  which  I  would  ba  understood  to 
mean,  the  power  she  sometimes  evinces  of 
throwing  every  consideration  of  self  into  the 
balance  as  nothing,  when  weighed  against 
the  interest  or  the  happiness  of  those  she 


loves.  Supported  under  some  of  the  most 
trying  vicissitudes  of  life  by  this  spirit  of  de- 
votedness,  her  capabilities  of  acting  and  en- 
during hav,e  sometimes  appeared  almost  su- 
perhuman ;  so  much  so,  that  when  we  con- 
template woman  in  this  point  of  view,  we  al- 
most fail  to  recognise  as  a  being  of  the  same 
species,  the  idle  flutterer  of  the  ball-room,  or 
the  listless  murmurer  beside  the  parental 
hearth. 

It  is  a  fearful  thing  to  await  the  coming  of 
"  the  dark  days  of  sorrow,"  before  the  evil 
spirit  of  selfishness  shall  be  exorcised.  Let 
us  inquire,  then,  what  aspect  this  enemy  as- 
sumes in  early  life,  in  order  that  it  may  be 
the  more  easily  detected,  and  expelled  from 
its  favorite  citadel,  the  human  heart 

Selfishness  has  other  features  besides 
greediness.  It  is  a  very  mistaken  notion, 
that  because  persons  give  freely,  they  cannot 
be  selfish ;  for  there  is  a  luxury  in  giving, 
which  sentimental  epicures  will  sometimes 
not  deny  themselves,  even  for  the  sake  of 
principle.  Thus,  some  young  people  are 
liberal  in  making  presents  with  their  parents' 
hard-earned  money,  and  even  when  the 
same  money  would  be  more  properly  and 
more  justly  applied  in  paying  their  lawful 
debts.  Such  is  the  mere  generosity  of  im- 
pulse, which  deserves  no  better  name  than 
self-gratification.  Indeed,  all  acting  from 
mere  impulse  may  be  classed  under  the  head 
of  selfishness ;  because  it  has  no  object  be- 
yond the  relief  or  satisfaction  of  the  actor, 
without  reference  to  its  influence  or  operation 
upon  others. 

The  aspect  which  female  selfishness  most 
frequently  assumes  in  early  life,  may  best  be 
described  as  a  kind  of  absorption  in  self,  or  a 
habit  of  making  self  at  once  the  centre  and 
limit  of  every  consideration,  which  habit  is 
far  from  being  incompatible  with  liberality 
in  giving.  Every  thing,  in  this  case,  which 
forms  the  subject  of  conversation  or  thought, 
has  reference  to  self;  and  separate  from  self, 
there  are  f»v  which  possess  the  slightest  in- 
terest. 

"  I  wish  it  was  always  winter,"  said  a 
young  lady  very  cooHy  to  me,  "  the  glare  of 


LOVE  AND  COURTSHIP. 


109 


the  sunshine  is  so  painful  to  my  sight."  ] 
reminded  her  of  the  poor  of  our  own  spe- 
cie.?, and  the  animals  of  the  creation  in  gen- 
eral—but she  persisted  in  wishing  it  was  al 
ways  winter  ;  and  yet  this  young  lady  wa: 
generous  in  giving,  but,  like  too  many  others, 
she  was  accustomed  to  look  upon  the  whole 
universe  only  as  it  bore  some  relation  or 
reference  to  herself. 

Nor  does  it  follow  either  that  such  persons 
should  entertain  for  themselves  an  inordinate 
admiration.  To  hear  them  talk,  one  would 
sometimes  be  led  to  suppose  that  self  was 
the  very  being  with  whom,  of  all  others,  they 
were  most  dissatisfied :  yet,  all  the  while, 
they  are  too  busy  finding  fault  with  self,  to 
have  time  to  approve  or  admire  what  they 
might  otherwise  behold  in  others. 

How  different  is  this  state  of  mind  and 
feeling  from  that  which  acknowledges  the 
rule  of  Christian  love  !  In  accordance  with 
this  rule,  it  is  highly  important  to  begin  early 
to  think  much  of  others,  and  to  think  of  them 
kindly.  We  are  all,  when  young,  and  es- 
pecially those  who  believe  themselves  gifted 
with  more  than  ordinary  talent,  tempted  to 
think  it  both  amusing  and  clever  to  find  out 
the  faults  of  others  ;  and  among  the  busy, 
the  meddling,  and  the  maliciously  disposed, 
this  habit  does  often  unquestionably  afford  a 
more  than  lawful  degree  of  amusement ; 
while  to  her  by  whom  it  is  indulged,  it  inva- 
riably proves  in  the  end  most  destructive  to 
genuine  cheerfulness,  good-humor,  and  peace 
of  mind  ;  because  its  own  nature  being  of- 
fensive, it  raises  up  against  her  a  host  of 
enemies,  by  whom  all  that  is  wrong  in  her 
character  is  magnified,  and  all  that  is  good  is 
evil  spoken  of.  At  the  same  time  she  will 
also  find,  that  this  seeming  cleverness  is 
also  shared  with  the  most  vulgar-minded 
persons  of  both  sexes,  and  of  every  grade  in 
society,  because  none  are  so  low  as  to  be  in- 
capable of  seeing  the  faults  of  their  neigh- 
bors. 

Could  such  young  satirists  be  convinced 
how  much  real  enjoyment  they  sacrifice  for 
the  sake  of  awakening  a  momentary  interest 
in  their  conversation,  they  would  surely  pause 


before,  the  habit  should  have  become  so  far 
confirmed  as  to  have  repelled  their  nearest 
friends,  and  set  them  apart  from  all  the  social 
sympathies  and  sweet  charities  of  life  ;  for 
such  is  inevitably  the  consequence  of  perse- 
vering  indulgence  in  this  habit,  but  especially 
with  such  as  possess  no  real  talent  for  amus- 
ing satire,  and  who,  in  their  futile  attempts  to 
attain  the  unenviable  distinction  of  being  sa- 
tirical, ascend  no  further  than  to  acquire  a 
habit  of  speaking  spitefully.  It  is  almost 
needless  to  say,  that  such  women  are  seldom 
loved,  and  seldom  sought,  in  cases  where  a 
sympathizing  friend  or  kind  assistant  is  re- 
quired. When  such  individuals  are  over- 
taken by  affliction,  they  then  feel  how  differ- 
ent a  thing  it  is  to  have  wounded  and  re- 
pelled, from  what  it  is  to  have  sAthed  and 
conciliated.  Happy  for  them  if  they  begin  to 
feel  this  before  it  is  too  late  ! 

But  if,  in  connection  with  their  affliction, 
the  minds  of  such  individuals  should  become 
subject  to  impressions  of  a  religious  nature 
and,  as  is  natural  in  such  cases,  they  should 
seek  the  society  of  religious  people,  how 
deeply  will  they  then  deplore  that  their  un- 
fortunate habit  of  thinking  and  speaking  evil 
of  others  should  have  opened  their  eyes  to  a 
thousand  little  discrepancies  of  character, 
and  fancied  absurdities  of  conduct,  in  those 
it  has  become  most  important  to  their  happi- 
ness that  they  should  confide  in !  How  do 
the  ridiculous,  the  inconsistent,  the  vulgar, 
then  start  up  to  view,  with  a  prominence 
that  throws  every  other  quality  into  shade ; 
so  that  even  while  they  listen  to  a  religious 
discourse,  their  thoughts  are  entirely  diverted 
by  some  peculiarity  in  the  manner  in  which 
it  is  delivered. 

And  all  this  chain  of  sad  consequences 
may  arise  out  of  the  simple  habit  of  trying  to 
be  striking  and  amusing  in  company,  so  that 
self  may,  by  that  means,  be  made  an  object 
of  greater  importance.  In  comparison  with 
such  behavior,  how  beautiful  is  that  of  the 
simple-hearted  young  woman,  who  can  be  so 
absorbed  in  the  conversation  of  others,  as  to 
forget  that  she  has  taken  no  part  in  it  her- 
self; but  more  especially  admirable  is  the 


116 


THE  DAUGHTERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


conduct  of  her,  who  looks  only,  or  chiefly, 
for  what  is  to  be  loved  and  commended  in 
others  ;  and  who,  though  not  insensible  to 
the  darker  side  of  human  nature,  draws  over 
it  the  veil  of  charity,  because  she  considers 
all  her  fellow-creatures  as  heirs  to  the  same 
sufferings  and  infirmities  which  she  endures, 
yet  as  children  of  the  same  heavenly  Father, 
and  subject  with  herself  to  the  same  dispen- 
sation of  mercy  and  forgiveness. 

The  habit  of  thinking  perpetually  of  self  is 
always  accompanied  by  its  just  and  necessa- 
ry punishment — a  more  than  ordinary  share 
of  wounded  feeling.  The  reason  is  a  very 
obvious  one ;  that  persons  whose  thoughts 
are  usually  thus  engaged,  are  apt  to  suppose 
themselves  the  subject  of  general  observation, 
and  scarcity  can  a  whisper  be  heard  in  the 
same  room,  but  they  immediately  settle  it  in 
their  own  minds  that  they  are  the  subject  of 
injurious  remark.  They  are  also  keenly  alive 
to  every  slight ;  such  as  not  being  known  or 
noticed  when  they  are  met,  not  being  invited 
to  visit  their  friends,  and  a  thousand  other 
acts  of  omission,  which  an  unselfish  disposi- 
tion would  kindly  attribute  to  some  other 
cause  than  intentional  disrespect. 

It  is  the  result  of  selfishness,  too,  when  we 
are  so  unreasonable  as  to  expect  that  every- 
body should  love  us ;  or  when  we  are  piqued 
and  irritated  when  convinced  that  some,  up- 
on whom  we  have  but  little  claim,  do  not. 
Surely,  so  unfair  a  demand  upon  the  good- 
will of  society  might  be  cured  by  asking,  Do 
we  love  everybody,  do  justice  to  everybody, 
and  deserve  to  be  loved  by  everybody  ?  For, 
until  this  is  the  case,  what  title  have  we  to 
universal  affection  ?  It  might  also  tend,  in 
some  degree,  to  equalize  the  balance  of  re- 
quirement in  favor  of  self,  if  we  would  recol- 
lect that  the  faults  we  most  dislike  in  others, 
may,  all  the  while,  be  less  offensive  to  us  than 
ours  to  them ;  and  that  not  only  for  all  the 
actual  faults,  but  even  for  the  objectionable 
peculiarities,  which  society  puts  up  with  in 
us,  we  owe  a  repayment  which  can  only  be 
made  in  kindness  and  forbearance  to  others. 
In  the  manners  and  appearance  of  persons 
accustomed  to  dwell  much  upon  the  slights 


they  are  subject  to,  and  the  injuries  they  re- 
ceive from  others,  there  is  a  restless  uneasi- 
ness, and  a  tendency  to  groundless  suspicion, 
as  much  at  variance  with  peace  of  mind,  as 
with  that  charity  which  "  thinketh  no  evil." 
Compare  with  such  a  state  of  mind  and  feel- 
ing the  sunny  calm  which  lives,  even  in  the 
countenance  of  her,  whose  soul  is  at  peace 
with  all  the  human  race ;  who  finds  in  all, 
even  the  most  humble,  something  either  to 
admire,  or  love ;  and  who  esteems  whatever 
kindness  she  receives  from  others,  as  more 
than  her  own  merits  would  have  entitled  her 
to  expect;  and  we  see  at  once  the  advantage 
she  enjoys  over  those  with  whom  self  is  the 
subject  of  paramount  interest 

Another  fatal  enemy  to  woman's  peace, 
as  well  as  to  her  moral  and  spiritual  advance- 
ment, is  her  tendency  to  a  peculiar  kind  of 
petty  artifice,  as  directly  opposed,  in  its  na- 
ture, to  simplicity  of  heart,  as  to  integrity. 
Artifice  may  possibly  be  considered  too  se- 
vere a  name  for  what  is  scarcely  more  than  a 
species  of  acting ;  or,  perhaps,  it  may,  with 
still  greater  propriety,  be  called,  practising 
upon  others,  for  the  purpose  of  gratifying 
selfishness,  and  feeding  vanity. 

Affectation  is  the  first  symptom  of  this  ten- 
dency. There  are  many  kinds  of  affectation, 
differing  in  their  moral  nature  according  to 
the  seriousness  and  importance  of  what  is 
affected.  Affectation  of  ignorance  is,  perhaps, 
the  most  absurd  of  them  all.  Yet  how  often 
do  we  find  a  young  pretender  to  gentility  af- 
fecting not  to  know  any  thing  which  is  vul- 
gar or  mean  ;  and,  among  this  class,  taking 
especial  pains  to  place  many  things  with 
which  every  rational  being  ought  to  be  ac- 
quainted ! 

The  affectation  of  sensibility  is,  perhaps, 
the  most  common  of  all ;  because  that  pecu- 
liar faculty  of  the  female  mind,  bestowed  for 
the  purpose  of  rendering  her  more  efficient 
as  a  minister  of  comfort  and  consolation,  is 
looked  upon  rather  as  a  matter  of  taste,  than 
as  a  principle  ;  just  as  if  fine  feelings  were 
only  given  to  women  to  look  pretty  with. 
Women  who  are  vain  of  their  sensibility,  and 
wish  to  have  it  indulged,  generally  choose 


SELFISHNESS,  VANITY,  ARTIFICE,  AND  INTEGRITY. 


Ill 


veak  and  flattering  friends,  to  whom  they 
constantly  complain  of  what  they  suffer  from 
xcess  of  feeling. 

It  is,  indeed,  a  lamentable  fact,  and^  most 
jrobably  the  consequence  of  some  misman- 
agement in  early  youth,  that  the  sensitive- 
ness of  some  women  is  such  as  to  render 
hem  altogether  useless,  and  sometimes 
worse  than  useless,  in  any  case  of  suffering 
or  alarm.  If  such  individuals  sincerely  regret 
Jiis  disqualification,  they  are  truly  deserving 
of  our  pity  ;  but  if  they  make  a  parade  of  it, 
no  language  can  be  strong  enough  for  their 
condemnation. 

Allusion  has  already  been  made  to  that 
affectatioa  of  modesty  which  consists  in 
simpering  and  blushing  about  what  a  truly 
delicate  mind  would  neither  have  perceived 
nor  understood,  nor  would  have  been  in  the 
slightest  degree  amused  by  if  it  had. 

Affectation  of  humility  is  often  betrayed  by 
a  proneness  in  persons  to  accuse  themselves 
of  some  darling  fault ;  while  they  repel  with 
indignation  the  suspicion  that  they  possess 
any  other. 

That  kind  of  affectation  which  relates  es- 
pecially to  manner,  consists  chiefly  in  assum- 
ing a  particular  expression  of  countenance 
or  mode  of  behavior,  which  is  not  supported 
by  a  corresponding  state  of  feeling.  Thus 
an  affectation  of  attention,  when  the  thought 
are  wandering,  instead  of  that  quiet  and  fixed 
look  which  indicates  real  interest,  produces 
a  certain  degree  of  uneasiness  of  countenance 
arising  out  of  the  restraint  imposed  upon  na- 
ture, which  effectually  destroys  the  power  of 
beauty  ;  while  those  futile  attempts  at  being 
brilliant,  which  consist  only  in  flashes  of  the 
eye,  smiles  that  have  neither  appropriateness 
nor  meaning,  and  an  expression  of  face 
changing  suddenly  from  grave  to  gay — from 
despair  to  rapture — are  sufficient  indications 
of  a  state  of  mind  almost  too  degraded  and 
deplorable  for  ridicule. 

Affectation  of  manner,  however,  is  not  un- 
frequently  the  result  of  excessive  timidity 
and  then  indeed  it  claims  our  tenderest  com 
passion,  and  our  kindest  sympathy.    I  have 
known  little  girls,  when  harshly  treated  in 


childhood,  acquire  a  constrained  and  affected 
manner,  from  the  constant  state  of  unnatural 
pprehension  in  which  they  lived.    This  kind 
of  affectation  is  apt  to  become  in  after  years 
fixed  habit,  and  has  subjected  many  a  well- 
meaning  person  to  unmerited  ridicule,  and 
sometimes  to  contempt.     Indeed,  affectation 
of  manner    ought    always  to  be    guarded 
against,  because  of  the  unfavorable  impres- 
sion it  is  calculated  to  make  upon  others ; 
and  especially  upon  those  who  know  of  no 
ligher  qualities  in  connection  with  this  pe- 
culiarity of  manner,  and  upon  whom  it  i» 
consequently  the  only  impression  ever  made, 
and  the  only  standard  by  which  the  unfortu- 
nate subject  of  affectation  is  judged  of  for 
life.     How  much  of  the  influence  of  good 
example,  and  the  effect  of  benevolent  effort, 
is  frustrated  by  this  seemingly  insignificant 
cause,  may  be  judged  of  by  the  familiar  con- 
versation which  takes  place  in  society,  and 
particularly  among  the  young,  when  they 
discuss  the  merits  or  demerits  of  persons 
from  whose  influence  or  authority  they  would 
gladly  discover  a  plea  for  escaping. 

Besides  the  timidity  which  belongs  to  con 
stitutional  fear,  and  which  so  frequently  pro- 
duces affectation  of  manner,  there  is  a  timid- 
ity of  a  widely  different  kind,  about  which 
many  serious  mistakes  are  made.  I  mean 
the  timidity  of  the  vain.  Excessive  vanity 
excites  a  nervous  trembling  apprehension  in 
the  young  candidate  for  public  favor,  which 
is  often  most  erroneously  supposed  to  arise 
from  a  low  estimate  of  self.  Nor  is  it  impos- 
sible that  it  should  arise  from  this  cause,  and 
be  the  consequence  of  vanity  still ;  for,  if 
may  use  the  expression,  there  is  a  vanity 
above  par,  and  another  vanity  below  it — 
there  is  a  vanity  which,  looks  eagerly  for 
homage,  believing  it  to  be  a  right ;  there  is 
another  which  scarcely  ventures  into  the  field 
of  competition,  convinced  of  its  inadequacy 
to  succeed,  but  which  nevertheless,  retires 
with  a  feeling  of  sullenness  and  depression, 
not  much  allied  to  genuine  humility.  It  is 
that  state  of  vacillation  between  the  excessive 
pleasure  which  admiration  would  afford  i 
obtained,  and  the  excessive  pain  which  any 


112 


THE  DAUGHTERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


thing  approaching  to  ridicule  or  contempt 
would  occasion,  that  often  imparts  to  the 
manners  of  the  young,  a  blushing  nervous 
kind  of  hesitation  and  backwardness,  mis- 
called timidity.  The  timidity  of  modest  feel- 
ing escapes  from  notice,  and  is  happy  ;  that 
of  vanity  escapes,  and  is  piqued  and  miser- 
able. She  who  suffers  from  the  timidity  of 
vanity,  shrinks  from  society  higher  than  her- 
self, not  so  much  from  fear,  as  from  jealousy 
of  being  outshone.  The  simple-hearted  wo- 
man, desirous  of  improvement,  esteems  it  a 
privilege  to  go  into  the  company  of  her  supe- 
riors, for  the  sake  of  what  she  may  learn 
from  those  who  are  better  informed,  or  more 
estimable,  than  herself. 

In  contemplating  the  nature  and  effects  of 
artifice,  or  rather  that  system  of  practising 
upon  others  which  I  have  endeavored  to  de- 
scribe, and  in  reflecting  upon  the  state  of 
mind  which  this  species  of  practising  indi- 
cates, we  arrive  at  a  more  clear  and  decided 
idea  of  integrity,  as  directly  opposed  to  this 
system,  than  we  can  by  any  other  process  of 
thought  There  is  in  fact  no  means  of  giving 
a  positive  definition  of  integrity,  so  as  to 
make  it  fully  understood.  We  may  call  it  a 
straightforward  and  upright  mode  of  con- 
duct ;  but  it  will  still  remain,  as  before,  to  be 
considered  by  young  ladies  a  sort  of  thing 
which  belongs  to  servants  and  trades-people, 
but  not  to  them. 

It  is  a  matter  of  surprise  to  some,  and 
ought  to  be  a  subject  of  universal  regret,  that 
in  our  public  seminaries  for  the  training  of 
youth,  integrity  should  occupy  so  small  a 
share  of  attention.  Even  in  our  popular 
works  on  education,  it  holds  no  very  import- 
ant place ;  and  yet  I  am  inclined  to  think, 
that  a  want  of  strict  integrity  is  the  greatest 
of  all  wants  to  a  social,  moral,  and  account- 
able being.  In  this  opinion,  I  doubt  not  but 
many  of  my  readers  will  cordially  agree,  be- 
cause all  are  more  or  less  inclined  to  restrict 
the  meaning  of  integrity,  to  a  conscientious 
abstaining  from  fraudulent  practices.  Thus, 
when  a  man  has  never  been  known  to  cheat 
in  his  business,  it  is  said  of  him,  that  his  in- 
tegrity is  unimpeachable  ;  and  a  woman  is 


dignified  with  the  same  character,  when  she 
is  strict  in  keeping  her  accounts,  and  dis- 
charging her  pecuniary  debts.  So  far,  both 
are  entitled  to  our  respect ;  but  there  are  in- 
numerable modes  in  which  integrity  operates 
upon  character  and  conduct,  besides  what 
relate  to  the  management  of  pecuniary  af- 
fairs. 

Simplicity  of  heart  is  perhaps  more  gener- 
ally understood  and  admired  than  integrity, 
if  we  may  judge  by  the  frequent  and  eloquent 
manner  in  which  it  is  expatiated  upon  by 
those  who  describe  the  attractions  of  youth. 
Simplicity  of  heart  is  unquestionably  a  great 
charm  in  woman  ;  yet  I  cannot  think  it  su- 
perior to  integrity,  because  it  consists  more 
in  ignorance  of  evil,  and  consequently  of 
temptation,  than  in  principle,  which  would 
withstand  both.  It  consists  chiefly  in  that 
unruffled  serenity  of  soul,  which  suspects  no 
lurking  mischief  beneath  the  fair  surface  of 
things  in  general — which  trusts,  and  confides, 
and  is  happy  in  this  confidence ;  because  it 
has  never  been  deceived,  nor  has  learned  the 
fatal  mystery  of  deceiving  others.  It  is  like 
the  dew  on  the  untrodden  grass,  the  bloom 
of  the  flower,  the  down  on  the  butterfly's 
wing,  the  purity  of  newly-fallen  snow,  before 
even  a  breath  of  wind  has  swept  over  it. 
Alas  !  what  has  it  to  do  in  this  world  of  ours, 
where  so  many  rude  feet  tread,  and  where 
so  many  rough  winds  blow  1  Consequently 
we  find  but  little  true  simplicity  of  heart,  ex- 
cept in  early  youth ;  or  connected  with  a 
dullness  of  perception  as  to  the  nature  and 
condition  of  the  human  race ;  or  in  situations 
where  a  very  limited  knowledge  of  the  world 
is  admitted. 

But  integrity  we  may  find  in  every  circum- 
stance of  life,  because  integrity  is  founded  on 
principle  ;  and  consequently  while  not  a  stran- 
ger to  temptation,  its  nature  is  to  withstand 
it  Integrity  is  shown  in  a  straightforward 
and  upright  line  of  conduct,  on  trifling,  as  well 
as  on  great  occasions ;  in  private,  as  well  as  in 
public ;  beneath  the  eye  of  God  alone,  as  well 
as  before  the  observation  of  men.  It  is  a'shield 
of  protection  under  which  no  man  can  make 
us  afraid ;  because  when  actuated  in  all  tilings 


SELFISHNESS,  VANITY,  ARTIFICE,  AND  INTEGRITY. 


113 


by  the  principle  of  integrity,  no  unexpected 
event  can  bring  to  light  what  we  are  afraid  or 
ashamed  to  have  known.  The  woman  who 
walks  through  the  world  with  unstained  integ- 
rity, is  always  safe.  No  fear  then  of  whispering 
tongues  ;  or  of  those  confidential  revealings 
of  friendly  secrete,  by  which  the  creature'  of 
artifice  is  ever  kept  in  a  state  of  dread ;  no 
fear  then  of  a  comparing  of  evidence  by  dif- 
ferent parties ;  of  the  treachery  of  private 
agents  ;  of  the  mal-occurrence  of  contingent 
events ;  above  all,  of  that  half-implied  sus- 
picion which  can  with  difficulty  be  warded  off, 
except  by  an  entire  falsehood.  The  woman 
of  integrity  fears  none  of  these.  Her  course 
is  clear  as  that  of  the  sun  in  the  heavens,  and 
the  light  she  sheds  around  her  in  society,  is 
scarcely  less  genial  and  pure. 

Let  us  ask  then,  how  this  integrity  may  be 
preserved,  or  rather — for  I  fear  that  will  be 
more  to  the  purpose — how  it  is  most  fre- 
quently, and  most  fatally  destroyed. 

There  is  reason  to  fear,  that  even  home- 
education  is  defective  enough  on  this  point ; 
but  if  every  one  who  has  been  educated  at  a 
public  school,  would  tell  one  half  of  the  many 
arts  of  subterfuge,  trickery,  and  evasion, 
which  she  learned  to  practise  there ;  and  if 
all  who  are  advanced  in  life  would  also  trace 
out  the  consequences  upon  their  subsequent 
conduct,  of  having  learned  in  early  life  these 
lessons  in  the  school  of  deception,  I  believe 
an  amount  of  moral  culpability,  and  of  offen- 
siveness  in  the  sight  of  God,  would  be  unfold- 
ed, which  some  of  our  early  instructors  would 
shudder  to  contemplate.  On  looking  into  the 
dark  past,  they  would  then  see  how,  while 
they  were  so  diligently  and  patiently — yes, 
and  meritoriously  too,  teaching  us  the  rules 
of  grammar,  arithmetic,  and  geography  ;  ex- 
pending their  daily  strength,  and  often  their 
midnight  thought,  in  devising  and  carrying 
out  improved  schemes  for  making  us  learn 
more  languages,  and  remember  more  words ; 
we  had  been  almost  equally  busy  in  devising 
schemes  to  promote  our  own  interest,  to  es- 
tablish ourselves  in  the  favor  of  our  instruct- 
ors, or  to  escape  their  too  frequently  well- 
merited  displeasure. 


And  women  from  their  very  infancy  are  apt 
at  all  this ;  because  to  the  timid,  and  affection- 
ate  little  girl,  it  is  so  sad  a  thing  to  fall  into 
disgrace — so  pleasant  a  thing  to  be  approved, 
and  loved.  Her  young  and  tender  spirit  sinks 
like  a  broken  flower,  when  she  falls  under 
condemnation  ;  but  springs  up  exulting  like 
the  lark,  when  commended  by  the  lips  she 
loves. 

What,  then,  shall  we  say,  when  it  is  this 
very  sensitiveness  and  tenderness  of  her  na- 
ture, which  so  often,  in  the  first  instance,  be- 
trays her  into  ingenious,  indirect,  and  too 
frequently  unlawful  means,  for  warding  off 
blame,  or  obtaining  praise.  There  is  but  one 
thing  we  can  say — that  in  common  kindness, 
in  Christian  charity,  her  education  should  be 
studiously  rendered  such  as  to  strengthen  her 
under  this  weakness,  not  to  involve  her  more 
deeply  in  its  worst  consequences — the  loss  of 
her  integrity. 

Few  persons  are  aware,  until  they  have 
entered  into  a  full  and  candid  examination 
of  this  subject,  how  very  minute,  and  appa- 
rently insignificant,  are  those  beginnings,  from 
whence  flow  some  of  the  deepest  channels  of 
deception.  Falsehood  makes  a  serious  begin- 
ning at  school,  when  the  master  helps  out  a 
drawing,  and  the  pupil  obtains  the  praise,  as 
if  the  whole  work  was  her  own.  The  master 
has  most  probably  added  only  a  few  effective 
touches,  so  extremely  small  as  not  to  be  de- 
tected by  an  unpractised  eye ;  and  while  the 
proud  and  triumphant  mother  exhib*s  the 
drawing  to  her  flattering  friends,  it  «rould  be 
difficult  indeed  for  the  little  girl  «  say  it  wag 
not  her  own  doing,  because  a-*  the  patience, 
all  the  labor,  and  a  great  *eal  of  the  merit, 
were  unquestionably  he**-  Yet,  to  let  it  pass 
with  these  unqualified  commendations  be- 
stowed upon  her  ^  the  author,  is  a  species 
of  lying  to  God.  Her  young  heart  knows  it 
to  be  so,  and  *&e  feels  either  humbled,  or  con- 
firmed is  thi  deception.  Happy,  thrice  hap- 
py, if  it  be  the  former  ! 

Nor  fe  home-education  by  any  means  ex- 
empt .*om  its  temptations  to  falsehood.  There 
are  many  little  deceptions  practised  upon  un- 
suspecting mothers  and  absent  fathers,  which 


114 


THE  DAUGHTERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


tain  the  page  of  youthful  experience,  and 
ead  to  further  and  more  skilful  practice  in 
tie  school  of  deception.  There  are  stolen 
weets,  whose  bitter  fruit  has  been  deliberate 
alsehood ;  excuses  made,  and  perhaps  wholly 
relieved,  which  were  perhaps  only  half  true ; 
and  sly  thefts  committed  upon  household 
>roperty,  to  serve  a  selfish  end ;  all  which 
lave  had  a  degrading  effect  upon  the  charac- 
er,  and  which  in  their  worst  consequences 
lave  led  to  one  falsehood  made  use  of  to  con- 
ceal another,  and  a  third  or  a  fourth  to  cover 
both. 

But  if  childhood  is  beset  with  these  tempta- 
ions,  how  much  has  woman  to  guard  against, 
when  she  first  mixes  with  society,  and  enters 
the  disputed  ground,  where,  to  be  most  agree- 
able, constitutes  the  strongest  title  to  posses- 
sion !    She  is  then  tempted  to  falsehood,  not 
n  her  words  only,  but  in  her  looks  ;  for  there 
s  a  degree  of  integrity  in  looks,  as  well  as  in 
xpressions;  and  I  am  not  quite  sure  that 
the  woman  who  can  look  a  falsehood,  is  not 
a  worse  deceiver  than  she  who  only  tells  one. 
All  sweetness  of  look  and  manner,  assumed 
for  the  purpose  of  gaining  a  point,  or  answer- 
ing a  particular  end,  comes  under  this  de- 
scription  of  artifice.       Many   persons  who 
cannot  conscientiously  assent  to  what  is  said, 
assume   a  look  of  sympathy  or  approval, 
which  sufficiently  answers  the  purpose  of 
deception,  and  at  the  same  time  escapes  all 
risk  of  discovery  as  such.    Thus,  an  implied 
asser/  by  a  smile  and  a  nod,  to  what  we  do  not 
believe,  nften  spares  us  the  trouble  and  pain 
of  exposing,  Our  real  sentiments,  where  they 
are  unpopular.  Or  would  be  likely  to  meet 
with  inconveniew-  opposition. 

Still  I  should  be  tarry  to  set  down  all  per- 
sons who  smile,  and  n»<j,  and  appear  to  as- 
sent to  two  different  sidw?  of  a  question,  as 
intentional  deceivers ;  because  I  believe  that 
much  of  this  sort  of  double-deUing  arises  out 
of  the  habit  so  many  women  indulge,  of  never 
making  up  their  minds  decidedly  otany  point 
of  general  interest,  or  viewing  any  s.bject  in 
a  distinct  and  determinate  manner ;  so  t 
they  may  almost  be  said  really  to  think  for  the 
time  in  two  different  ways :  at  any  rate,  during 


the  time  they  listen  to  each  speaker  separately» 
they  are  sufficiently  convinced  for  them. 

Thus  it  becomes  the  first  act  of  integrity  to 
endeavor  to  see,  hear,  and  believe  the  truth, 
and  then  to  speak  it.  A  grateful  woman,  re- 
gardless of  this  rule,  speaks  of  all  persons  as 
good,  to  whom  she  is  indebted,  or  who  have 
in  any  way  served  her  purposes.  Another, 
and  a  far  more  serious  instance  of  the  same 
kind  of  practice,  consists  in  pretending  not  to 
see,  or  not  to  understand  vice,  where  it  is  not 
convenient  to  believe  in  its  existence ;  and 
this  is  often  done  by  the  same  persons,  who 
are  quick  to  detect  and  expose  it  where  such 
exposure  is  suited  to  their  purpose. 

And  thus  women  in  general  become  ha- 
bituated to  an  indefinite  way  of  thinking,  and 
a  careless  mode  of  speech,  both  which  may 
be  serviceable  to  the  mean-spirited,  by  pre- 
venting the  detection  of  error  in  sentiment, 
or  unsoundness  of  principle ;  though  I  be- 
lieve neither  of  them  were  ever  yet  found 
available  in  assisting  the  cause  of  truth  or 
righteousness. 

Again,  in  the  act  of  doing  good,  there  is  a 
manner  of  speaking  of  what  we  have  done, 
which,  though  not  directly  false,  is  certainly 
at  variance  with  strict  integrity.  I  mean 
when  young  ladies  talk  especially  about  their 
schools,  their  poor  women,  and  their  old  men ; 
as  if  their  individual  charities  were  most  be- 
nevolent in  their  operation,  and  unbounded 
in  their  extent ;  when  perhaps  they  have  but 
recently  begun  to  be  exercised  in  these  par- 
ticular channels.  This  is  speaking  the  truth 
in  such  a  manner,  as  to  produce  a  false  im- 
pression ;  and  the  consequence  not  unfre- 
quently  is,  when  really  zealous  and  devoted 
people  hear  the  speaker  give  this  account  of 
her  good  deeds,  and  when  they  take  up  the 
subject,  and  address  her  upon  it,  according 
to  the  impression  her  words  have  produced  ; 
that,  rather  than  descend  from  the  false  posi- 
tion she  has  assumed,  and  lower  herself  in 
the  opinion  of  those  with  whom  she  wishes  to 
stand  well,  she  goes  on  to  practise  further  arti- 
fice, or  possibly  plunges  into  actual  falsehood. 
And  it  ought  always  to  be  borne  in  mind, 
I  that  these  little  casual,  but  sometimes  start- 


SELFISHNESS,  ARTIFICE,  VANITY,  AND  INTEGRITY. 


115 


ling  turns  in  common  conversation,  produce 
more  actual  untruths  than  the  most  trying 
circumstances  in  life,  where  we  have  incom- 
parably more  at  stake.  If  we  were  all  to 
take  account  each  night  of  the  untruths  we 
had  told  in  the  course  of  the  day,  from  an 
exaggerated  description  designed  to  make  a 
story  more  amusing,  down  to  the  frequent 
case  of  receiving  credit  for  an  original  re- 
mark, which  we  knew  was  not  our  own,  I 
imagine  few  persons  would  find  themselves 
altogether  clear  of  having  done  violence  to 
the  pure  spirit  of  truth.  And  if  we  add, 
also,  to  this  list  of  falsehoods,  all  those  un- 
fair or  garbled  statements,  which  may  tend  to 
throw  a  brighter  coloring  over  some  cause 
we  wish  to  advocate,  or  cast  another  into 
shade,  I  believe  we  should  find  that  we  had 
indeed  abundant  need  to  pray  for  the  re- 
newed assistance  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  to  touch 
and  guard  our  lip^so  that  they  should  utter 
no  more  guile. 

Besides  these  instances  of  the  want  of  in- 
tegrity, in  which  our  own  consciences  alone  are 
concerned,  there  are  others  which  demand  a 
stricter  attention  to  the  claims  of  justice,  as 
they  relate  to  our  friends,  and  to  society  at 
large.  Under  which  head,  I  would  notice 
the  duty  of  doing  justice  to  those  we  do  not 
love,  and  especially  to  those  who  have  in- 
jured us.  Instead  of  which,  how  frequently 
do  we  find  that  young  women  begin  to  tell 
all  the  bad  qualities  of  their  friends,  as  soon 
as  they  have  quarrelled  with  them !  How 
often  do  we  find,  too,  that  such  disagree- 
ments are  related  with  conscious  unfairness, 
their  own  evil  being  kept  out  of  sight,  as  wel 
as  their  friend's  good,  where  there  has  been 
a  mixture  of  both  ! 

There  is  a  common  practice  too,  when  our 
own  conduct  is  in  any  way  called  in  ques- 
tion, and  our  friends  kindly  assign  a  plausible 
reason  for  what  we  have  done,  to  let  tha 
pass  as  the  real  one,  though  we  know,  with- 
in our  hearts,  it  is  not  so  ;  or  to  let  persons 
make  a  favorable  guess  respecting  us,  with- 
out contradicting  it,  though  we  know  thei 
conclusions,  in  consequence  of  our  silence,  o 
apparent  assent,  will  be  false  ones. 


Now,  all  these  things,  how  insignificant 
soever  they  may  appear  to  man,  are  import- 
ant between  the  soul  and  its  Maker,  and 
must  be  deeply  offensive  in  the  sight  of  that 
Being  who  is  of  purer  eyes  than  to  behold  in- 
quity.  They  are  important,  as  forming  parts 
of  a  whole,  items  of  a  mass,  links  in  a  chain, 
steps  in  a  downward  progress,  which  must 
ead  away  from  a  participation  with  the 
Blessed,  in  a  kingdom,  whose  enjoyments 
consist  of  purity  and  truth. 

We  have  now  come  to  that  consideration 
of  the  subject  of  integrity,  which  relates  to 
pecuniary  affairs.  And  here  what  a  field  of 
operation  opens  before  us,  for  the  develop- 
ment of  those  principles  of  good  or  evil,  of 
benevolence  or  selfishness,  of  uprightness  or 
artifice,  which  I  have  endeavored  to  describe, 
less  by  their  own  nature,  than  by  their  influ- 
ence upon  the  manners  and  general  conduct 
of  women  ! 

I  believe  there  is  nothing  in  the  usages  of 
society  more  fatal  to  the  interests  of  man- 
kjnd,  to  the  spiritual  progress  of  individuals, 
or  to  the  general  well-being  of  the  human 
soul,  than  laxity  of  principle  as  regards  ou 
pecuniary  dealings  with  each  other.  It  is  a 
case  which  all  can  understand — the  worldly 
as  well  as  religious  professors ;  if,  then,  the 
slightest  flaw  appears  in  the  conduct  of  the 
latter  in  this  respect,  the  interests  of  religion 
must  be  injured  in  consequence,  and  the 
cause  of  Christ  must  suffer. 

"  But  it  is  impossible,"  say  the  fair  readers 
of  this  page,  "  that  this  part  of  the  subject 
can  have  any  reference  to  us,  we  have  so 
little  to  do  with  money  ;"  or,  perhaps,  they 
say,  "  so  little  in  our  power  to  spend."  Per- 
haps it  is  the  very  smallness  of  your  supply 
according  to  the  ideas  you  have  formed  of 
its  inadequacy  to  meet  your  wishes,  which  is 
the  cause  of  your  want  of  integrity  ;  for  no 
one  can  act  in  strict  accordance  with  the 
principles  of  integrity,  until  they  have  learned 
to  practise  economy.  By  economy,  I  do  not 
mean  simply  the  art  of  saving  money,  but 
the  nobler  science  of  employing  it  for  the 
best  purposes,  and  in  its  just  proportions. 
In  order  to  act  out  the  principles  of  integ- 


116 


THE   DAUGHTERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


rity  in  all  their  dignity,  and  all  their  purity, 
it  is  highly  important,  too,  that  young  wo- 
men should  begin  in  early  life  to  entertain  a 
scrupulous  delicacy  with  regard  to  incurring 
pecuniary  obligations ;  and  especially,  never 
to  throw  themselves  upon  the  politeness  of 
gentlemen,  to  pay  the  minutest  sum  in  the 
way  of  procuring  for  them  gratification,  or 
indulgence.  I  do  not  say  that  they  may  not 
frequently  be  so  circumstanced,  as,  with  the 
utmost  propriety,  to  receive  such  kindness 
from  near  relations,  or  even  from  elderly 
persons ;  but  I  speak  of  men  in  general, 
upon  whom  they  have  not  the  claim  of  kin- 
dred ;  and  I  have  observed  the  carelessness 
with  which  some  young  ladies  tax  the  polite- 
ness— nay,  the  purses  of  gentlemen,  respect- 
ing which  it  would  be  difficult  to  say,  whether 
it  indicated  most  an  absence  of  delicate  feel- 
ing, or  an  absence  of  integrity. 

I  am  aware,  that,  in  many  cases,  this  un- 
satisfactory kind  of  obligation  is  most  diffi- 
cult to  avoid,  and,  sometimes,  even  impos- 
sible ;  yet,  a  prompt  and  serious  effort  should 
always  be  made — and  made  in  such  a  way 
that  you  shall  clearly  be  understood  to  have 
both  the  wish,  and  the  power,  to  pay  your 
own  expenses.  If  the  wish  is  wanting,  I 
can  have  nothing  to  say  in  so  humiliating  a 
case  ;  but  if  you  have  not  the  means  of  de- 
fraying your  own  charges,  it  is  plain  that  you 
have  no  right  to  enjoy  your  pleasures  at  the 
expense  of  another.  There  are,  however, 
different  ways  of  proposing  to  discharge 
such  debts  ;  and  there  is  sometimes  a  hesi- 
tancy in  the  alternate  advance  and  retreat  of 
the  fair  lady's  purse,  which  would  require 
extraordinary  willingness  on  the  part  of  the 
gentleman,  were  his  object  to  obtain  a  re- 
payment of  his  own  money. 

It  is  the  same  in  the  settlement  of  all  other 
debts.  Delicacy  ought  seldom,  if  ever,  to 
form  a  plea  for  their  adjustment  being  neg- 
lected. Indeed,  few  persons  feel  their  deli- 
cacy much  wounded,  by  having  the  right- 
money  paid  to  them  at  the  right  time  ;  or,  in 
other  words,  when  it  is  due.  The  same  re- 
marks will  apply  to  all  giving  of  commis- 
sions. Never  let  such  affairs  stand  on  and 


on,  for  want  of  a  suitable  opportunity  for  ar- 
ranging their  settlement;  especially,  never 
let  the  payment  of  a  debt  be  longer  delayed, 
because  it  is  evidently  forgotten  by  the  party 
to  whom  it  is  owing. 

All  matters  of  business  should  also  be  ad- 
justed as  fairly,  and  as  promptly,  with  friends 
and  near  relations,  as  with  strangers ;  and  all 
things  in  such  cases  should  be  as  clearly  un- 
derstood. If  the  property  transferred  be  in- 
tended as  a  gift,  say  so ;  if  a  loan,  say  that 
the  thing  is  lent ;  and  if  a  purchase,  either 
pay  for  it,  or  name  the  price  you  expect  How 
many  lasting  and  lamentable  misunderstand- 
ings among  the  nearest  connections  would  this 
kind  of  integrity  prevent — how  much  wound- 
feeling,  disappointment,  and  chagrin ! 

It  is  a  mistaken  view  of  economy,  and 
evinces  a  great  want  of  integrity,  when  per- 
sons are  always  endeavoring  to  obtain  servi- 
ces, or  to  purchase  good^  at  a  lower  rate 
than  their  just  value.  But  if  the  vender  of 
an  article  be  indebted  to  you  for  a  kindness, 
it  is  something  worse  than  mean,  to  ask,  for 
that  reason,  an  abatement  in  its  price. 

In  many  cases  where  our  claims  are  just, 
it  is  easy  to  press  them  in  an  unjust  manner ; 
and  we  never  do  this  more  injuriously  to  the 
interests  of  society,  than  when  we  urge  work- 
people beyond  what  is  necessary,  by  telling 
them  that  a  thing  will  positively  be  needed  at 
a  certain  time,  when  we  do  not  really  believe 
it  will.  There  is  a  general  complaint  against 
dressmakers,  shoemakers,  and  many  other 
makers  of  articles  of  clothing,  that  they  are 
habitually  regardless  of  punctuality  and  truth. 
But  I  am  disposed  to  think  the  root  of  the 
grievance  in  a  great  measure  arises  out  of 
the  evil  already  alluded  to,  on  the  part  of  the 
ladies  by  whom  they  are  employed. 

Let  us  imagine  the  case  of  a  young  dress- 
maker, 6ne  of  that  most  pitiable  class  of  hu- 
man beings,  whose  pallid  countenances,  and 
often  deformed  and  feeble  frames,  sufficiently 
attest  the  unnatural  exertions  by  which  they 
obtain  their  scanty  bread.  A  young  lady 
wishes  to  have  a  dress  elaborately  made,  and 
for  the  sake  of  having  it  done  expeditiously, 
names  the  precise  day  on  which  it  must  be 


SELFISHNESS,  ARTIFICE,  VANITY,  AND  INTEGRITY. 


117 


finished,  adding  as  a  sufficient  reason  for 
punctuality,  that  it  must  then  be  worn.  The 
poor  dressmaker  sits  all  night  long  in  her  lit- 
tle joyless  room,  working  by  the  light  of  a 
thin  candle,  while  the  young  lady  sleeps 
soundly  in  her  bed.  The  Sabbath  dawns, 
and  the  dressmaker  is  still  at  work ;  until 
passing  feet  begin  to  be  heard  in  the  street, 
and  shutters  are  unclosed;  and  then,  with 
aching  head  and  weary  limbs,  she  puts  away 
her  unfinished  task,  doubting  whether  the  re- 
mainder of  the  day  shall  be  devoted  to  the 
sleep  which  exhausted  nature  demands,  or  to 
wandering  abroad  to  search  for  purer  air,  of 
which  that  nature  is  equally  in  need.  The 
day  arrives  at  last  on  which  the  dress  must 
be  taken  home,  according  to  appointment. 
This  time  the  dressmaker  is  punctual,  be- 
cause she  believes  that  delay  would  be  of 
consequence.  She  knocks  at  the  door  of  the 
lady's  mansion.  The  servant  coolly  tells  her 
that  her  young  mistress  has  gone  to  spend  a 
few  days  in  the  country.  Is  it  likely  that 
this  poor  workwoman  should  be  equally- 
punctual  the  next  time  her  services  are  re- 
quired 1  or  need  we  ask  how  the  law  of  love 
has  operated  here  1 

The  habit  of  keeping  strict  accounts  with 
regard  to  the  expenditure  of  money,  is  good 
in  all  circumstances  of  life ;  but  it  is  never 
so  imperative  a  duty,  as  when  we  have  the 
property  of  others  committed  to  our  care. 
Unfaithfulness  in  the  keeping  and  manage- 
ment of  money  which  belongs  to  others,  has 
perhaps  been  the  cause  of  more  flagrant  dis- 
aster and  disgrace,  than  any  other  species  of 
moral  delinquency  which  has  stained  the 
character  of  man,  or  woman  either.  Yet, 
how  easily  may  this  occur,  without  an  ex- 
treme of  scrupulous  care,  which  the  young 
cannot  too  soon,  or  too  earnestly  learn  to 
practise  !  Even  in  the  collecting  of  subscrip- 
tions for  two  different  purposes,  small  sums, 
by  some  slight  irregularity,  may  become  mix- 
ed ;  and  integrity  is  sacrificed,  if  the  minutest 
fraction  be  eventually  placed  to  >the  wrong 
account. 

I  cannot  for  an  instant  suppose  that  s. 
Christian  woman,  under  any  circumstances, 


even  the  most  difficult  and  perplexing,  could 
be  under  the  slightest  temptation  to  appro- 
priate to  her  own  use,  for  a  month,  a  week, 
a  day*  or  an  hour,  the  minutest  item  of  what 
she  had  collected  for  another  purpose,  trust- 
ing to  her  own  future  resources  for  its  reim- 
bursement ;  because  this  would  be  a  species 
of  dishonesty,  which,  if  once  admitted  as  a 
principle  of  conduct,  would  be  liable  to  termi- 
nate in  the  most  fearful  and  disastrous  con- 
sequences. It  is  the  privilege  of  the  daugh- 
ters of  England,  that  they  have  learned  a 
code  of  purer  morals,  than  to  admit  even 
such  a  thought,  presented  under  the  form  of 
an  available  means  of  escape  from  difficulty, 
or  attainment  of  gratification.  Still  it  is  well 
to  fortify  the  mind,  as  far  as  we  are  able, 
against  temptation  of  every  kind,  that  if  it 
should  occur — and  who  can  be  secure  against 
it  1 — we  may  not  be  taken  unawares  by  an 
enemy  whose  assaults  are  sometimes  as  in- 
sidious, as  they  are  always  untiring. 

One  of  the  means  I  would  now  propose  to 
the  young  reader,  is  to  turn  with  serious  at- 
tention to  the  case  of  Ananias  and  Sapphira, 
as  related  in  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles ;  nor 
let  it  be  forgotten,  that  this  appalling  act  of 
moral  delinquency,  originating  in  selfishness, 
and  terminating  in  falsehood,  was  the  first 
sin  which  had  crept  into  the  fold  of  Christ, 
after  the  Shepherd  had  been  withdrawn,  and 
while  the  flock  remained  in  a  state  approach- 
ing the  nearest  to  that  of  perfect  holiness, 
which  we  have  reason  to  believe  was  ever 
experienced  on  this  earth,  since  the  time 
when  sin  first  entered  into  the  world. 

Yes,  it  is  an  awful  and  impressive  thought, 
that  even  in  this  state,  temptation  was  allow- 
ed to  present  itself  in  such  a  form,  accom- 
|  panied  with  a  desire  still  to  stand  well  with 
the  faithful,  even  after  integrity  was  gone 
The  words  of  Peter  are  most  memorable  on 
this  occasion  :  While  it  remained,  was  it  not 
thine  own  ?  and  after  it  was  so/rf,  was  it  not  in 
thine  own  power?  Evidently  implying,  that  it 
was  better  not  to  pretend  to  act  upon  high 
and  generous  principles,  than  not  to  do  so 
faithfully-  He  then  concludes  in  this  em- 
phatic language :  "  Tkou  has  not  lied  unto 


119 


THE  DAUGHTERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


men,  but  unto  God."  By  which  we  learn, 
that  every  species  of  dishonesty  practised 
between  the  soul  and  its  Maker,  is  equally 
offensive  in  the  sight  of  God,  as  that  which 
is  evident  to  men  ;  and  that  there  is  no  clear, 
upright,  and  faithful  walk  for  any  human  be- 
ing in  this  world,  whether  young  or  old, 
whether  rich  or  poor,  whether  exalted  or 
lowly,  but  that  which  is  in  strict  accordance 
with  the  principles  of  integrity. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

DEDICATION  OF  YOUTH. 

WITHOUT  having  made  any  pretension  in 
this  volume  to  class  it  under  the  head  of  a 
religious  work,  I  have  endeavored  to  render 
it  throughout  conducive  to  the  interests  of 
religion,  by  pointing  out  those  minor  duties 
of  life,  and  those  errors  of  society,  which 
strictly  religious  writers  almost  universally 
consider  as  too  insignificant  for  their  atten- 
tion. And,  perhaps,  it  is  not  easy  to  inter- 
weave these  seeming  trifles  in  practice,  with 
the  great  fundamental  principles  of  Christian 
faith. 

I  cannot  but  think,  however,  that  to  many, 
and'especially  to  the  young,  this  minuteness 
of  detail  may  have  its  use,  by  bringing  home 
to  their  attention  familiar  instances  upon 
which  Christian  principle  may  be  brought  to 
bear.  For  I  am  one  of  those  who  think  that 
religion  ought  never  to  be  treated  or  consid- 
ered as  a  thing  set  apart  from  daily  and  fa- 
miliar use,  to  be  spoken  of  as  belonging  al- 
most exclusively  to  sabbaths,  and  societies, 
and  serious  reading.  To  me  it  appears  that 
the  influence  of  religion  should  be  like  an 
atmosphere,  pervading  all  things  connected 
with  our  being  ;  that  it  ought  to  constitute 
the  element  in  which  the  Christian  lives, 
more  than  the  sanctuary  into  which  he  re- 
tires. When  considered  in  this  point  of 
view,  nothing  can  be  too  minute  to  be  sub- 
mitted to  the  test  of  its  principles  ;  so  that, 
instead  of  our  worldly  and  our  spiritual  con- 


cerns occupying  two  distinct  pages  in  our 
experience,  the  one,  according  to  this  rule, 
becomes  regulated  by  our  spiritual  views ; 
and  the  other  applied  to  our  worldly  avoca- 
tions, as  well  as  to  our  eternal  interests. 

In  relation  to  this  subject  it  has  been  re- 
marked, in  the  quaint  language  of  an  old 
writer,  that  no  sin  is  "little  in  itself,  because 
there  is  no  little  law  to  be  despised — no  little 
heaven  to  be  lost — no  little  hell  to  be  en- 
dured ;"  and  it  is  by  this  estimate  that  I 
would  value  every  act,  and  every  thought, 
in  which  the  principles  of  good  and  evil  are 
involved. 

The  great  question,  whether  the  principles 
of  Christian  faith,  or,  in  other  words,  wheth- 
er the  religion  of  the  Bible,  shall  be  adopted 
as  the  rule  of  conduct  by  the  young,  remains 
yet  to  be  considered,  not  in  relation  to  the 
nature  of  that  faith,  but  as  regards  the  de- 
sirableness of  embracing  it  at  an  early  period 
of  life,  willingly  and  entirely,  with  earnest- 
ness as  well  as  love. 

I  am  writing  thus  on  the  supposition,  that, 
with  all  who  read  these  pages,  convictions  of 
the  necessity  and  excellence  of  personal  re- 
ligion have  at  one  time  or  other  been  experi- 
enced. The  opinion  is  general,  and,  I  be- 
lieve, correct,  that  the  instances  are  extremely 
rare  in  which  the  Holy  Spirit  does  not  awa- 
ken the  human  soul  to  a  sense  of  its  real 
situation  as  an  accountable  being,  passing 
through  a  state  of  probation,  before  entering 
upon  an  existence  of  endless  duration.  Nor 
among  young  persons  born  of  Christian  pa- 
rents, and  educated  in  a  Christian  country, 
where  the  means  of  religious  instruction  are 
accessible  to  all,  is  it  easy  to  conceive  that 
such  convictions  have  not,  at  times,  been 
strong  and  deep ;  though,  possibly,  they  may 
have  been  so  neglected  as  to  render  their  re- 
currence less  frequent,  and  less  powerful  in 
their  influence  upon  the  mind. 

Still  it  is  good  to  recall  the  time  when  the 
voice  of  warning,  and  of  invitation,  was  first 
heard  ;  to-revisit  the  scene  of  a  father's  faith- 
ful instruction,  and  of  the  prayers  of  a  lost 
mother ;  to  hear  again  the  sabbath-evening 
sermon  ;  to  visit  the  cottage  of  a  dying 


DEDICATION  OF  YOUTH. 


119 


Christian  ;  or  even  to  look  back  once  more 
into  the  chamber  of  infancy,  where  our  first 
tears  of  real  penitence  were  shed.  Iris  good 
to  remember  how  it  \vas  with  us  in  those  by- 
gone days  when  we  welcomed  the  chastise- 
ments of  love,  and  kissed  the  rod  that  was 
stretched  forth  by  a  Father's  hand.  How 
blest  did  we  then  feel,  in  the  belief  that  we 
were  not  neglected,  not  forgotten,  not  over- 
looked !  Has  any  thing  which  the  world  we 
have  too  much  loved  has  since  offered  us,  af- 
forded a  happiness  to  be  compared  with  this 
belief]  Oh!  no.  Then  why  not  hearken, 
when  the  same  voice  is  still  inviting  you  to 
come  1  and  why  not  comply  when  the  same 
hand  is  still  pointing  out  the  way  to  peace  ? 
What  is  the  hindrance  which  stands  in  your 
way  1  What  is  the  difficulty  which  prevents 
the  dedication  of  your  youth  to  God  ]  Let 
this  question  be  seriously  asked,  and  fully 
answered  ;  for  it  is  of  immense  importance 
that  you  should  know  on  what  grounds  the 
invitations  of  the  Holy  Spirit  have  been  re- 
jected, and  why  you  are  adopting  another 
rule  of  conduct  than  that  which  is  prescribed 
in  the  gospel  of  Christ. 

I  repeat,  it  is  of  immense  importance,  be- 
cause this  is  a  subject  which  admits  of  no 
trifling.  If  it  is  of  importance  in  every 
branch  of  mental  improvement,  that  we 
should  be  active,  willing,  earnest,  and  faith- 
ful, it  is  still  more  important  here.  When 
we  do  not  persevere  in  learning,  it  does  not 
follow  of  necessity  that  we  grow  more  igno- 
rant ;  because  we  may  remain  where  we 
are,  while  the  rest  of  the  world  goes  on.  But 
in  religion,  there  is  no  standing  still ;  because 
opportunities  neglected,  and  convictions  re- 
sisted, are  involved  in  the  great  question  of 
responsibility — so  that  no  one  can  open  their 
Bible,  or  attend  the  means  of  religious  in- 
struction, or  spend  a  Sabbath,  or  even  enter 
into  solemn  communion  with  their  own  heart, 
as  in  the  sight  of  God,  but  they  must  be  so 
much  the  worse  for  such  opportunities  of 
improvement,  if  neglected  or  despised. 

I  have  dwelt  much  in  this  volume  upon  the 
law  of  perfect  love,  as  well  as  upon  the  sin- 
cerity and  the  faithfulness  with  which  that 


law  should  be  carried  out ;  and  never  is  this 
more  important,  or  more  essential,  than  in  our 
religious  profession.  The  very  groundwork 
of  the  Christian  faith  is  love  ;  and  love  can 
accomplish  more  in  the  way  of  conformity  in 
life  and  practice,  than  could  ever  be  effected 
by  the  most  rigid  adherence  to  what  is  be- 
lieved to  be  right,  without  assistance  from  the 
life-giving  principle  of  love. 

Still  the  state  of  the  Christian  in  this  world 
is  always  described  as  one  of  warfare,  and  not 
of  repose ;  and  how,  without  earnestness, 
are  temptations  to  be  resisted,  convictions 
acted  upon,  or  good  intentions  carried  out  1 
As  time  passes  on,  too,  faithfulness  is  tried. 
What  has  been  adopted,  or  embraced,  must 
be  adhered  to.  And  in  this,  with  many 
young  persons,  consists  the  greatest  of  their 
trials  ;  for  there  is  often  a  reaction  on  first 
learning  to  understand  something  of  the  re- 
alities of  life,  which  throws  them  back  from 
the  high  state  of  expectation  and  excitement, 
under  which  they  first  embraced  religious 
truth. 

But  let  us  return  to  the  objections  which 
most  frequently  operate  to  prevent  the  young 
surrendering  themselves  to  their  convictions 
of  the  importance  and  necessity  of  personal 
religion.  "  If  I  begin,  I  must  go  on."  Your 
mind  is  not  then  made  up.  You  have  not 
counted  the  cost  of  coming  out  from  the 
world,  nor  honestly  weighed  the  advantages 
of  securing  the  guidance,  support,  and  pro- 
tection of  personal  religion,  against  every 
other  pursuit,  object,  or  idol  of  your  lives. 
Perhaps  it  is  society,  amusement,  or  fashion, 
which  stands  in  your  way.  Be  assured  there 
is  society  of  the  highest  order,  where  religion 
is  supreme ;  and  if  not  exactly  what  is  popu- 
larly called  amusement,  there  is  a  heartfelt 
interest  in  all  which  relates,  however  remote- 
ly, to  the  extension  of  the  kingdom  of  Christ 
— an  interest  unknown  to  those  who  have  no 
bond  of  union,  founded  upon  the  basis  of 
Christian  love. 

Is  it  possible,  then,  that  fashion  can  deter 
you — fashion,  a  tyrant  at  once  both  frivolous 
and  cruel — fashion,  who  never  yet  was  rich 
enough  to  repay  one  of  her  followers,  for  the 


120 


THE  DAUGHTERS  OF  EX'JLAXI). 


sacrifice  of  a  single  happy  hour — fashion, 
whose  realm  is  folly,  and  who  is  perpetually 
giving  place  to  sickness,  sorrow,  and  the 
grave  1  Compare  for  one  instant  her  empire 
with  that  of  religion.  I  admit  that  her  pow- 
er is  extensive,  almost  all-pervading;  but 
what  has  her  sovereign  sway  effected  upon 
the  destinies  of  man  t  She  has  adjusted  or- 
naments, and  selected  colors ;  she  has  cloth- 
ed and  unclothed  thousand?,  and  arrayed 
multitudes  in  her  own  livery — but  never  has 
fashion  bestowed  dignity  or  peace  of  mind 
upon  one  single  individual  of  the  whole  fam- 
ily of  man. 

It  would  be  an  insult  to  the  nature  and 
the  power  of  religion  to  proceed  further  with 
the  comparison.  Can  that  which  relates 
merely  to  the  body,  which  is  fleeting  as  a 
breath,  and  unstable  as  the  shadow  of  a  cloud, 
deter  from  what  is  pure,  immortal,  and 
divine  1 

Still  I  am  aware  it  is  easy,  in  the  solitude 
of  the  chamber,  or  in  the  privacy  of  domestic 
life,  to  think  and  speak  in  this  exalted  strain, 
and  yet  to  go  into  the  society  of  the  fashion- 
able, the  correct,  and  the  worldly-minded, 
who  have  never  felt  the  necessity  of  being 
religious,  and  to  be  suddenly  brought,  by  the 
chilling  influence  of  their  reasoning  or  their 
satire,  to  conclude  that  the  convenient  season 
for  you  to  admit  the  claims  of  religion  upon 
your  heart  and  life,  has  not  yet  arrived. 

I  believe  the  most  dangerous  influence, 
which  society  exercises  upon  young  women, 
is  derived  from  worldly-minded  persons,  of 
strong  common  sense,  who  are  fashionable 
in  their  appearance,  generally  correct  in  then- 
conduct,  and  amiable  and  attractive  in  their 
manners  and  conversation.  Young  women 
guardedly  and  respectably  brought  up  see 
little  of  vice,  and  know  little  of 

"The  thousand  paths  which  slope  the  way  to  sin." 

They  .are  consequently  comparatively  un- 
acquainted with  the  beginnings  of  evil,  and 
still  less  so  with  those  dark  passages  of  life, 
to  which  such  beginnings  are  calculated  to 
lead.  It  follows,  therefore,  that,  except  when 
under  the  influence  of  strong  convictions, 


they  may  be  said  to  be  ignorant  of  the  real 
necessity  of  religion.  It  is  but  natural  then, 
that  those  correct  and  well-bred  persons,  to 
whom  allusion  has  been  made,  who  pass  on 
from  the  cradle  to  the  brink  of  the  grave, 
treating  religion  with  respect,  as  a  good  thing 
for  the  poor  and  the  disconsolate,  but  al- 
together unnecessary  for  them,  should  appear, 
on  a  slight  examination  of  the  subject,  to  be 
living  in  a  much  more  enviable  state,  than 
those  who  believe  themselves  called  upon  to 
renounce  the  world  and  its  vanities,  and  de- 
vote their  time  and  their  talent?,  their  en- 
ergies and  their  affections,  to  a  cause  which 
the  worldly-minded  regard,  at  best,  as  vision- 
ary and  wild. 

I  have  spoken  of  such  persons  passing  on 
to  the  brink  of  the  grave,  and  I  have  used 
this  expression,  because,  I  believe  the  grave 
has  terrors,  even  to  them ;  that  when  one 
earthly  hold  after  another  gives  way,  and 
health  declines,  and  fashionable  friends  fall 
off,  and  death  sits  beckoning  on  the  tomb- 
stones of  their  newly-buried  associates  and 
relatives ;  I  believe  there  is  often  a  fearful 
questioning,  about  the  realities  of  eternal 
thing?,  and  chiefly  about  the  religion,  which 
in  idea  they  had  set  apart  for  the  poor,  the 
aged,  and  the  disconsolate,  but  would  none 
of  it  themselves. 

Yes,  I  believe,  if  the  young  could  witness 
the  solitude  of  such  persons,  could  visit  their 
chambers  of  sickness,  and  gain  admittance  to 
the  secret  counsels  of  their  souls,  they  would 
find  there  an  aching  void,  a  want,  a  destitu- 
tion, which  the  wealth  and  the  fashion,  the 
pomp  and  the  glory  of  the  whole  habitable 
world  would  be  insufficient  to  supply. 

It  is  often  secretly  objected  by  young  peo- 
ple, that,  by  making  a  profession  of  religion 
they  should  be  brought  into  fellowship  and 
association  with  vulgar  persons :  in  answer 
to  which  argument,  it  would  be  easy  to  show 
that  nothing  can  be  more  vulgar  than  vice, 
to  say  nothing  of  worldly-mindedness.  It  is, 
however,  more  to  the  purpose  to  endeavor 
to  convince  them,  that  true  religion  is  so 
purifying  to  its  own  nature,  as  to  be  capable 
of  elevating  and  refining  minds  which  have 


DEDICATION  OF  YOUTH. 


121 


never  been  either  softened  or  enlightened  by 
any  other  influence. 

All  who  have  been  extensively  engaged  in 
the  practical  exercise  of  Christian-  benevo- 
lence ;  and  who,  in  promoting  the  good  of 
their  fellow-creatures,  have  been  admitted  to 
scenes  of  domestic  privacy  among  the  illiterate 
and  the  poor,  will  bear  their  testimony  to  the 
fact,  that  religion  is  capable  of  rendering  the 
society  of  some  of  the  humblest  and  simplest 
of  human  beings,  as  truly  refined,  and  far 
more  affecting  in  its  pathos  and  interest,  than 
that  of  the  most  intelligent  circles  in  the  high- 
er walks  of  life.  I  do  not,  of  course,  pretend 
to  call  it  as  refined  in  manners,  and  phrase- 
ology :  but  in  the  ideas  and  the  feelings  which 
its  conversation  is  intended  to  convey.  That 
is  not  refined  society  where  polished  language 
is  used  as  the  medium  for  low  ideas ;  but 
that  in  which  the  ideas  are  raised  above 
vulgar  and  worldly  things  and  assimilated 
with  thoughts  and  themes  on  which  the  holy 
and  the  wise,  the  saint  and  the  philosopher, 
alike  delight  to  dwell. 

It  is  no  exaggeration  then  to  say,  that  the 
conversation  of  the  humble  Christian  on  her 
death-bed — her  lowly  bed  of  suffering,  sur- 
rounded by  poverty  and  destitution — is  some- 
times so  fraught  with  the  intelligence  of  that 
celestial  world  on  which  her  hopes  are  fixed, 
that  to  have  spent  an  hour  in  her  presence, 
is  like  having  had  the  glories  of  heaven,  and 
the  wonders  of  immortality,  revealed.  And 
is  this  a  vulgar  or  degrading  employment  for 
a  refined  and  intellectual  being  1  to  dwell 
upon  the  noblest  theme  which  human  intel- 
lect has  ever  grasped,  to  look  onward  from 
the  perishable  things  of  time  to  the  full  devel- 
opment of  the  eternal  principles  of  truth  and 
love  ?  to  forget  the  sufferings  of  frail  humani- 
ty, and  to  live  by  faith  among  the  ransomed 
spirits  of  the  blest,  in  the  presence  of  angels, 
and  before  the  Saviour,  ascribing  honor  and 
glory,  dominion  and  power,  to  Him  that  sitteth 
on  the  throne  and  to  the  Lamb  forever  and  ever  J 
In  turning  back  to  the  world,  from  the 
contemplation  of  such  a  state  of  mind,  we 
I  feel  that  vulgarity  consists  neither  in  religion 
itself,  nor  in  its  requirements,  but  in  attaching 


undue  importance  to  the  things  of  time,  and 
m  making  them  our  chief,  or  only  good. 

If  young  people  are  often  deterred  from 
becoming  religious  by  seeing  a  great  number 
of  genteel,  correct,  and  agreeable  persons, 
who,  for  any  thing  they  can  discover  to  the 
contrary,  are  doing  very  well  without  it,  they 
are  still  more  forcibly  deterred  by  feeling  no 
want  of  it  within  themselves. 

Perhaps  you  are  so  protected  by  parents, 
and  so  hemmed  in  by  domestic  regulations, 
that  you  feel  it  more  difficult  to  do  what  is 
positively  wrong,  than  what  is  generally  ap- 
proved as  right  But  do  not  be  so  blind  and 
presumptuous  as  to  mistake  this  apparently 
inoffensive  state,  for  being  religious  ;  and  re- 
membei,  if  it  is  difficult  to  do  wrong  now,  it 
is  the  last  stage  of  your  experience  in  which 
you  will  find  it  so.  Obliged  to  quit  the  pa- 
rental roof,  deprived  by  death  of  your  nat- 
ural protectors,  required  as  years  advance 
to  take  a  more  active  part  in  the  duties  of 
life,  or  to  incur  a  greater  share  of  culpability 
by  their  neglect ;  thrown  among  strangers,  or 
friends  who  are  no  longer  watchful  or  soli- 
citous for  your  temporal  and  spiritual  good ; 
involved  in  new  connections,  and  exposed  to 
temptations  both  from  within  and  from  with- 
out, how  will  your  mind,  lately  so  careless 
and  secure,  awake  to  a  conscious  feeling  of 
your  own  weakness,  and  a  secret  terror  of 
impending  harm  !  For  woman  from  her  very 
feebleness  is  fearful;  while  from  her  sensi- 
tiveness she  is  peculiarly  exposed  to  pain. 
Without  religion,  then,  she  is  the  most  pitia- 
ble, the  most  abject,  the  most  utterly  destitute 
of  all  created  beings.  The^world — society — 
nay,  even  domestic  life,  has  nothing  to  offer 
on  which  her  heart  in  its  unregenerate  state 
can  rest  in  safety.  Each  day  is  a  period  of 
peri!,  if  not  of  absolute  agony  ;  for  all  she  has 
to  give — her  affections,  which  constitute  her 
wealth — are  involved  in  speculations,  which 
can  yield  back  into  her  bosom  nothing  but 
ashes  and  mourning. 

It  i?  not  so  with  the  woman  who  has  made 
religion  her  stronghold — her  defence — her 
stay.  Unchecked  in  the  happiest  and  most 
congenial  impulse  of  her  nature,  can  she  still  j 


122 


THE  DAUGHTERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


love,  because  the  Lord  her  God  has  com- 
manded that  she  should  love  him  with  all  her 
heart,  and  with  all  her  strength,  and  that  she 
should  love  her  neighbor  as  herself.  Thus, 
though  disappointment  or  death  may  blight  her 
earthly  hopes ;  or  though  a  cloud  may  rest  upon 
the  bestowment  of  her  affections  in  this  vale 
of  tears,  the  principle  of  love  which  fills  her 
soul  remains  the  same,  and  she  is  most  happy 
when  its  sphere  of  exercise  is  unbounded  and 
eternal 

And  is  it  possible  that  any  of  the  rational 
beings  whom  I  am  addressing  would  dare  to 
rush  upon  the  dangers  and  temptations  of 
this  uncertain  and  precarious  life,  without 
the  protection  and  support  of  religion  1  Oh ! 
no,  they  tell  me  they  are  all  believers  in  re- 
ligion— all  professors  of  the  Christian  faith. 
But  are  you  all  religious  I  Deceive  not  your- 
selves. There  is  no  other  way  of  being 
Christians,  except  by  being  personally  re- 
ligious. If  not  personally  religious  now,  are 
you  then  ready  to  begin  to  be  so  ?  Delay  not ; 
you  have  arrived  at  years  of  discretion,  and 
are  capable  of  judging  on  many  important 
points.  You  profess  to  believe  in  a  religion 
which  expressly  teaches  you  that  it  is  itself  the 
one  thing  needful  What  then  stands  in  the 
way?  If,  after  mature  and  candid  deliberation, 
you  decidedly  prefer  the  world,  injure  not  the 
cause  of  Christ  by  an  empty  profession,  nor 
act  the  cowardly  part  of  wearing  the  outward 
badge  of  a  faith  which  holds  not  possession 
of  your  heart  and  affections.  It  is  neither 
honorable  nor  just  to  allow  any  one  to  doubt 
on  whose  side  you  are.  If,  therefore,  your 
decision  be  in  favor  of  religion,  it  is  still  more 
important  that  you  should  not  blush  to  own 
a  Saviour,  who  left  the  glory  of  the  heavenly 
kingdom,  inhabited  a  mortal  and  suffering 
frame,  and  finally  died  an  ignominious  death, 
for  you. 

Nor  let  the  plea  of  youth  retard  the  offer- 
ing of  your  heart  to  Him  who  gave  you  all  its 
capacity  for  exquisite  and  intense  enjoyment 
If  you  are  young,  you  are  happy  in  having 
more  to  offer.  Though  it  constitutes  the 
greatest  privilege  of  the  Christian  dispensa- 
tion, that  we  are  not  required  to  bring  any 


thing  by  which  to  purchase  the  blessings  of 
pardon  and  salvation  ;  it  surely  must  atTord 
some  additional  satisfaction  to  a  generous 
mind,  to  feel  that  because  but  a  short  peiiod 
of  life  has  passed  away,  there  is  more  of 
health  and  strength,  of  elasticity  and  vigor,  to 
bring  into  the  field  of  action,  than  if  the  de- 
cision upon  whose  side  to  engage,  had  been 
deferred  until  a  later  period. 

What,  for  instance,  should  we  think  of  the 
subjects  of  a  gracious  and  beneficent  sover- 
eign, who  maintained  a  small  territory  in  the 
midst  of  belligerent  foes,  if  none  of  these  sub- 
jects would  consent  to  serve  in  his  army  for  the 
defence  of  his  kingdom,  until  they  had  wasted 
their  strength  and  their  vigor  in  the  enemy's 
ranks,  in  fighting  deliberately  and  decidedly 
against  the  master,  whom  yet  they. professed 
to  consider  as  their  rightful  lord  ;  and  then, 
when  all  was  lost,  and  they  were  poor,  de- 
crepit, destitute,  and  almost  useless,  returned 
to  him,  for  no  other  reason,  but  because  he 
was  a  better  paymaster  than  the  enemy,  un- 
der whose  colors  they  had  fought  for  the 
whole  of  their  previous  lives  ?  What  should 
we  say,  if  we  beheld  this  gracious  master 
willing  to  receive  them  on  such  terms,  and 
not  only  to  receive,  but  to  honor  and  reward 
them  with  the  choicest  treasures  of  his  king- 
dom !  We  should  say,  that  one  of  the  most 
agonizing  thoughts  which  could  haunt  the 
bosom  of  each  of  those  faithless  servants, 
would  be  regret  and  self-reproach,  that  he 
had  not  earlier  entered  upon  the  service  of 
his  rightful  lord. 

There  is  besides,  this  fearful  consideration 
connected  with  the  indecision  of  youth,  that 
in  religious  experience  none  can  remain  sta- 
tionary. Where  there  is  no  progress,  there 
must  be  a  falling  back.  He  who  is  not  icilh 
me,  is  against  me,  was  the  appalling  language 
of  our  Saviour  when  on  earth ;  by  which 
those  who  are  halting  between  two  opinions, 
and  those  who  are  imagining  themselves  safe 
on  neutral  ground,  are  alike  condemned,  as 
being  opposed  to  the  Redeemer's  kingdom. 
It  is  but  reasonable,  however,  that  the  young 
should  understand  the  principles,  and  reflect 
maturely  upon  the  claims  of  religion,  before 


DEDICATION  OF.  YOUTH. 


123 


their  decision  is  openly  declared.  Much  in- 
jury has  been  done  to  individuals,  as  well  as 
to  society  at  large,  by  a  precipitate  and  uncal- 
culating  readiness  to  enlist  under  the  banners  of 
the  Cross,  before  the  duties  of  a  faithful  soldier 
of  Christ  have  been  duly  considered.  It  is 
the  tendency  of  ardent  youth,  to  invest  what- 
ever it  delights  in  for  the  moment,  with  ideal 
qualities  adapted  to  its  taste  and  fancy.  Thus 
has  religion  often— too  often — been  decked  in 
charms  more  appropriate  to  the  divinities  of 
Greece  and  Rome,  than  to  the  worship  of  a 
self-denying  and  persecuted  people,  whose 
lot  on  earth,  they  have  been  fully  warned,  is 
not  to  be  one  of  luxury  or  repose. 

The  first  and  severest  disappointment  to 
which  the  young  enthusiast  in  religion  is  sub- 
ject, is  generally  that  of  finding,  on  a  nearer 
acquaintance  with  the  devout  men  and  hon- 
orable women  who  compose  the  religious 
societies  into  which  they  are  admitted,  that 
they  have  faults  and  failings  like  the  rest  of 
mankind,  and  even  inconsistencies  in  their 
spiritual  walk,  which  are  still  more  unexpect- 
ed, and  more  difficult  to  reconcile.  The  first 
impulse  of  the  young,  on  making  this  dis- 
covery, is  often  to  give  up  the  cause  alto- 
gether ;  "  for  if  such,"  say  they, "  be  the  defects 
of  the  Christian  character,  after  such  a  season 
of  experience,  and  while  occupying  so  exalted 
a  position,  it  can  be  of  little  use  to  us  to  perse- 
vere in  the  same  course."  They  forget,  or 
perhaps  they  never  have  considered,  that  the 
highest  attainment  of  the  Christian  in  this 
world,  is  often  that  of  alternate  error  and  re- 
pentance ;  and  that  it  is  the  state  of  the  heart 
before  pod,  of  which  he  alone  is  the  judge, 
which  constitutes  the  difference  between  a 
penitent,  and  an  impenitent  sinner.  Besides 
which,  they  know  not  all  The  secret  strug-  i 
gles  of  the  heart,  the  temptations  overcome, 
the  tears  of  repentance,  which  no  human  eye 
beholds,  must  alike  be  hid  from  them,  as  well 
as  the  fearful  effects  upon  the  peace  of  mind 
which  these  inconsistencies  so  seriously  dis- 
turb, or  destroy. 

A  wiser  appb'cation  of  this  humbling  lesson, 
would  be,  for  youth  to  reflect,  that  if  such  be 
the  defects  in  the  character  of  more  experi- 


enced Christians,  they  themselves  enjoy  the 
greatest  of  all  privileges,  that  of  profiting  by 
the  example  of  others,  so  as  to  avoid  stumbling 
where  they  have  fallen  ;  and  instead  of  petu- 
lently  turning  back  from  a  path  which  will 
still  remain  to  be  right,  though  thousands  up- 
on thousands  should  wander  from  it,  they 
will  thus  be  enabled  to  steer  a  steadier  course, 
and  to  finish  it  with  greater  joy. 

Another  great  discouragement  to  the  young, 
consists  in  finding  their  efforts  to  do  good  so 
feeble  and  unavailing — nay,  sometimes  al- 
most productive  of  evil,  rather  than  of  good. 
In  their  charities,  especially,  they  find  their 
confidence  abused,  and  their  intentions  mis- 
understood. On  every  hand,  the  coldness  of 
the  rich,  and  the  ingratitude  of  the  poor,  alike 
repel  their  ardor.  If  they  engage  in  schools, 
no  one  appears  the  better  for  their  instruction ; 
if  they  connect  themselves  with  bene  vol  ent  so- 
cieties, they  find  their  individual  efforts  so 
trifling,  in  comparison  with  the  guilt  and  the 
misery  which  prevail,  as  scarcely  to  appear 
deserving  of  repetition  ;  while,  in  the  distribu- 
tion of  religious  books,  and  the  general  atten- 
tion they  give  to  the  spiritual  concerns  of  the 
ignorant  and  the  destitute,  they  perceive 
no  fruit  of  all  their  zeal,  and  all  their  labor. 

I  freely  grant,  that  these  are  very  natural 
and  reasonable  causes  of  depression,  and  such 
as  few  can  altogether  withstand ;  but  there  is 
one  important  secret  which  would  operate  as 
a  remedy  for  such  depression,  if  we  could  ful- 
ly realize  its  supporting  and  consoling  power. 
The  secret  is,  are  we  doing  all  this  unto  God, 
or  unto  man  ?  If  unto  man,  and  in  our  own 
strength,  and  solely  for  the  sake  of  going 
about  doing  good  ;  but  especially  if  we  have 
done  it  for  the  sake  of  having  been  seen  and 
known  to  have  done  it ;  even  if  we  have  done 
it  for  the  sake  of  the  reward  which  we  be- 
lieve to  follow  the  performance  of  every  laud- 
able act ;  or  with  a  secret  hope  of  thereby 
purchasing  the  favor  of  God ;  we  have  no 
need  to  be  surprised,  or  to  murmur  at  such 
unsatisfactory  results,  which  may  possibly 
have  been  designed  as  our  wholesome  chas- 
tisement, or  as  the  means  of  checking  our  fur- 
ther progress  in  folly  and  presumption. 


124 


THE  DAUGHTERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


But,  if  in  every  act  of  duty  or  kindness  we 
engage  in,  we  are  actuated  simply  by  a  love 
to  God,  and  a  sense  of  the  vast  debt  of  grati- 
tude we  owe  for  all  the  unmerited  mercies  we 
enjoy,  accompanied  with  a  conviction,  that 
whatever  the  apparent  results  may  be,  our 
debt  and  our  duty  are  still  the  same ;  that 
whatever  the  apparent  results  may  be,  our 
heavenly  Father  has  the  overruling  of  them, 
and  is  able  to  make  every  thing  contribute  to 
the  promotion  of  his  glory  and  the  extension 
of  the  Redeemer's  kingdom,  though  in  ways 
which  we  may  neither  be  able  to  perceive 
nor  understand  ;  then,  indeed,  with  this  view 
of  the  subject,  we  are  enabled  to  persevere 
through  every  discouragement,  rejoicing  only 
in  the  ability  to  labor,  and  leaving  the  fruit 
of  our  labor  with  him  who  has  appointed 
both, 

I  must  yet  allude  to  another  cause  of  dis- 
couragement with  which  the  young  have  to 
contend,  and  that  is,  their  own  spiritual  de- 
clension, after  the  ardor  of  their  early  zeal 
has  abated.  Perhaps  I  ought  rather  to  say, 
their  imagined  declension,  because  I  believe 
they  are  often  nearer  heaven  in  this  humbled, 
and  apparently  degraded  state,  than  when 
exulting  in  the  confidence  of  untried  patience, 
fortitude,  and  love.  The  prevalent  idea  un- 
der this  state  of  mind  is,  that  of  their  own  cul- 
pability, in  having  made  a  profession  of  reli- 
gion in  a  state  of  unfitness,  or  on  improper  or 
insufficient  grounds,  accompanied  with  an  im- 
pression that  they  are  undergoing  a  just  pun- 
ishment for  such  an  act  of  presumption,  and 
that  the  only  duty  which  remains  for  them  to 
do,  is  to  give  up  the  profession  of  religion  al- 
together. 

Perhaps  no  delusion  is  greater,  or  more  uni- 
versal, than  to  believe,  that  because  we  have 
been  wrong  in  assuming  a  position,  we  must, 
necessarily,  throw  ourselves  out  of  it  in  order 
to  be  right  This  principle  would,  unques- 
tionably, be  just  in  all  situations  where  any- 
particular  qualification  was  needed,  which 
could  not  immediately  be  acquired  ;  but,  if 
the  regret  be  so  great  on  discovering  that  you 
are  deficient  in  the  evidences  of  personal  re- 
ligion, surely  you  can  have  no  hesitation  in 


choosing  to  lay  hold  of  the  means  which  are 
always  available  for  obtaining  that  divine  as- 
sistance, which  shall  render  your  profession 
sincere,  rather  than  to  give  up  the  duties,  the 
hopes,  and  the  privileges  of  religion  alto- 
gether. 

It  becomes  a  serious  inquiry  on  these  oc- 
casions, whether  the  inclination  is  not  wrong, 
and  whether  a  plea  is  not  even  wished  for, 
as  an  excuse  for  turning  back,  after  having  laid 
the  hand  on  the  plough.  If  not,  the  alternative 
is  a  safe,  and  easy  one.  Begin  afresh.  Make  a 
fresh  dedication  of  the  heart  to  God.  Com- 
mence the  work  as  if  it  had  never  been  un- 
dertaken before,  and  all  may  yet.be  well — per- 
haps better  than  if  you  had  never  doubted 
whether  you  stood  upon  the  right  founda- 
tion. 

It  should  always  be  remembered,  for  the  con- 
solation and  encouragement  of  youth,  that  in 
making  the  decision  in  favor  of  religion  in  early 
life,  there  is  comparatively  little  to  undo;  while 
if  this  most  important  duty  is  left  until  a  later 
period,  there  will  be  the  force  of  long  establish- 
ed habit  to  contend  with  on  the  side  of  wrong, 
^meshes  of  evil  to  unravel,  dark  paths  to  travel 
back,  and  all  that  mingled  texture  of  light 
and  darkness,  which  originates  in  a  polluted 
heart,  and  a  partially  enlightened  understand- 
ing to  separate  thread  from  thread.  And,  oh  ! 
what  associations,  what  memories  are  there  ! 
what  gleaming  forth  again  of  the  false  fire, 
even  after  the  true  has  been  kindled  !  what 
yawning  of  the  wide  sepulchre  in  which  the 
past  is  buried,  though  it  cannot  rest !  what 
struggling  with  the  demons  of  imagination,  be- 
fore they  are  cast  out  forever  !  what  bleeding 
of  the  heart,  which,  like  a  chastened  child, 
would  kiss  the  rod,  yet  dare  not  think  how  ma- 
ny stripes  would  be  commensurate  with  its  de- 
linquency !  Oh !  happy  youth  !  it  is  thy 
privilege,  that  this  can  never  be  thy  por- 
tion ! 

Yes,  happy  youth  !  for  thou  art  ever  hap- 
py in  the  contemplation  of  age  ;  and  yet  thou 
hast  thy  tears.  Thou  hast  thy  trials  too  ; 
and  perhaps  their  acuteness  renders  them  less 
bearable  than  the  dull  burden  of  accumula- 
ted sorrow,  which  hangs  upon  maturer  years. 


DEDICATION  OF  YOUTH. 


125 


Thou  hast  thy  sorrows  :  and  when  the  moth- 
er's eye  is  closed,  that  used  to  watch  thy  in- 
fant steps  so  fondly  ;  and  the  father's  hand  i* 
cold,  that  used  to  rest  upon  thy  head  with 
gentle  and  impressive  admonition  ;  whom 
hast  thou,  whom  wilt  thou  ever  have,  to  sup- 
ply thy  parents'  place  on  earth  *  Whom 
hast  thou  !  The  world  is  poor  to  thee  ;  for 
none  will  ever  love  thee  with  a  love  like  theirs. 
Thou  hast  thy  golden  and  exuberant  youth, 
thy  joyous  step,  thy  rosy  smile,  and  we  call 
thee  happy.  But  thou  hast  also  thy  hours  of 
loneliness,  thy  disappointments,  thy  chills,  thy 
blights  ;  when  the  hopes  on  which  thy  young 
spirit  has  soared  begin  for  the  first  time  to 
droop ;  when  the  love  in  which  thou  hast  so 
fondly  trusted  begins  to  cool ;  when  the  flow- 
ers thou  hast  cherished  begin  to  fade  ;  when 
the  bird  thou  hast  fed  through  the  winter,  in 
the  summer  flies  away  ;  when  the  lamb  thou 
hast  nursed  in  thy  bosom,  prefers  the  stran- 
ger to  thee. — Thou  hast  thy  tears ;  but  the 
bitterest  of  thy  sorrows,  how  soon  are  they  as- 
suaged !  It  is  this  then  which  constitutes  thy 
happiness,  for  we  all  have  griefs ;  but  long 
before  old  age,  they  have  worn  themselves 
channels  which  cannot  be  effaced.  It  is  there- 
fore that  we  look  back  to  youth  with  envy  ; 
because  the  tablet  of  the  heart  is  then  fresh, 
and  unimpressed,  and  we  long  to  begin  again 
with  that  fair  surface,  and  to  write  upon  it  no 
characters  but  those  of  truth. 

And  will  not  youth  accept  the  invitation  of 
experience,  and  come  before  it  is  too  late  1 — 
and  come  with  all  its  health,  and  its  bloom, 
and  its  first-fruits  untainted,  and  lay  them 
upon  the  altar ;  an  offering  which  age  can- 
not make  1  Let  us  count  the  different  items 
in  the  riches  which  belong  to  youth,  and  ask 
if  it  is  not  a  holy  and  a  glorious  privilege  to 


dedicate  them  to  the  service  of  the   Most 
High? 

First,  then,  there  is  the  freshness  of  un- 
wearied nature,  for  which  so  many  millions 
pine  in  vain ;  the  glow  of  health,  that  life- 
spring  of  all  the  energies  of  thought  and  ac- 
tion ;  the  confidence  of  unbroken  trust — the 
power  to  believe,  as  well  as  hope — a  power 
which  the  might  of  human  intellect  could 
never  yet  restore  ;  the  purity  of  undivided 
affection ;  the  earnestness  of  zeal  unchilled 
by  disappointment ;  the  first  awakening  of 
joy,  that  has  never  been  depressed ;  high 
aspirations  that  have  never  stooped  to  earth ; 
the  clear  perception  of  a  mind  unbiassed  in 
its  search  of  truth ;  with  the  fervor  of  an  un- 
troubled soul. 

All  these,  and  more  than  pen  could  write 
or  tongue  could  utter,  has  youth  the  pow- 
er to  dedicate  to  the  noblest  cause  which 
ever  yet  engaged  the  attention  of  an  intel- 
lectual and  immortal  being.  What,  then,  I 
would  ask  again,  is  that  which  hinders  the 
surrender  of  your  heart  to  God,  your  con- 
duct to  the  requirements  of  the  religion  of 
Christ  7 

With  this  solemn  inquiry,  I  would  leave 
the  young  reader  to  pursue  the  train  of  her 
own  reflections.  All  that  I  have  proposed  to 
her  consideration  as  desirable  in  character 
and  habit — in  heart  and  conduct — will  be 
without  consistency,  and  without  foundation, 
unless  based  upon  Christian  principle,  and 
supported  by  Christian  faith.  All  that  I  have 
proposed  to  her  as  most  lovely,  and  most  ad- 
mirable, may  be  rendered  more,  infinitely 
more  so,  by  the  refinement  of  feeling,  the 
elevation  of  sentiment,  and  the  purity  of 
purpose,  which  those  principles  and  that 
faith  are  calculated  to  impart 


DEDICATED  BY  ESPECIAL  PERMISSION  TO 


THE 


WIVES  OF  ENGLAND 


THEIR 


RELATIVE    DUTIES, 
DOMESTIC  INFLUENCE,  AND  SOCIAL  OBLIGATIONS, 

BY  MRS.  ELLIS, 

AUTHOR  OF  "THE  WOMEN  OF  ENGLAND,"  "THE  DAUGHTERS  OF  ENGLAND," 
"THE  POETRY  OF  LIFE,"  ETC. 


"  The  greatest  difficulty  of  my  task  has  been  the  laying  bare,  as  it  were,  before  the  public  eye.  the  privacy  of  married  life — 
of  that  life  whose  sorrows  the  heart  alone  can  know,  and  with  whose  joys  it  is  the  universal  privilege  of  all  who  share  them, 
that  no  stranger  shall  intermeddle. 

"  But  if  the  principles  it  has  been  my  simple  aim  to  advocate,  should  meet  the  approbation  of  my  countrywomen,  I  would 
fondly  hope  to  be  associated  with  their  fireside  enjoyments,  as  one  whose  highest  ambition  would  have  been  to  render  their 
pleasures  more  enduring,  their  hopes  more  elevated,  and  their  happiness  more  secure." — From  the  Author's  Preface. 


AUTHOR'S  EDITION, 

COMPLETE    IN    ONE    VOLUME, 


NEW  YORK: 

HENRY  G.  LANGLEY,  8  ASTOR-HOUSE,  BROADWAY. 
1844. 


TO  HER  MAJESTY  THE  QUEEN, 

IN  WHOSE  EXALTED  STATION 
THE  SOCIAL  VIRTUES  OF  DOMESTIC  LIFE  PRESENT  THE  BRIGHTEST  EXAMPLE 

TO  HER  COUNTRYWOMEN, 
AND  THE  SUREST  PRESAGE  OF  HER  EMPIRE'S  GLORT  J 

2TJ)fs  Volume  Is  jjratefullg  Knscrfbrt, 

BT  HER  MAJESTY'S 
MOST  OBEDIENT  AND  MOST  DEVOTED  SERVANT, 

THE  AUTHOR. 


PREFACE. 


IN  writing  on  any  subject,  and  particu- 
larly for  the  purpose  of  doing  good,  there 
are  always  two  extremes  to  be  avoided — 
that  of  being  too  general,  and  that  of  be- 
ing too  minute. 

By  generalizing  too  much,  the  writer 
incurs  the  risk  of  being  considered  by  the 
reader  as  having  little  actual  knowledge 
of  the  state  of  human  affairs,  and  conse- 
quently little  sympathy  either  with  those 
who  enjoy,  or  with  those  who  suffer. 
Without  saying  any  thing  to  disparage  in 
other  respects  the  value  of  those  excellent 
books  on  female  duty,  in  many  of  which 
are  included  the  duties  of  married  women, 
I  confess  they  have  all  appeared  to  me 
too  general — too  much  as  if  the  writer 
had  not  been  personally  identified  with 
the  subject,  had  never  entered  into  the 
minutiae  of  private  and  domestic  life,  or 
did  not  feel,  what  the  heart  of  woman 
must  feel,  under  its  peculiar  trials. 

But,  while  endeavoring  to  avoid  this 
extreme,  I  am  quite  alive  to  the  suspicion 
that  I  may  have  fallen  into  the  other ; 
and  if  the  mere  ambition  of  writing  a  book 
had  been  my  object,  I  should  have  felt 
painfully  that  those  who  read  only  for 
amusement  might  lay  aside  the  volume 
altogether,  as  trifling,  common-place,  and 
tame.  Yet  such  is  my  confidence  in  the 
power  of  human  sympathy,  that  I  fear- 
lessly trust  the  practical  hints  which 
occupy  these  pages  to  the  kindness  of  my 
countrywomen,  assuring  them  that  I  ask 
for  no  higher  reward,  than,  that  while 
some  of  them  are  reading  my  homely 


details  of  familiar  things,  they  should  feel 
that  in  the  writer  they  have  found  a  sister 
and  a  friend, — one  who  is  bound  to  the 
same  heritage  with  themselves,  sharing 
the  same  lot,  and  while  struggling  under 
much  weakness  of  resolution,  and  many 
disadvantages  of  heart  and  character,  is 
subject  to  the  same  hopes,  and  the  same 
fears,  both  as  regards  this  life  and  the 
next. 

yThe  greatest  difficulty  of  my  task,  how- 
ever, has  been  to  me  the  laying  bare,  as  it 
were,  before  the  public  eye,  the  privacy  of 
married  life — of  that  life  whose  sorrows  the 
heart  alone  can  know,  and  with  whose  joys 
it  is  the  universal  privilege  of  all  who  share 
them,  that  no  stranger  shall  intermeddle. 
This  difficulty,  of  the  extent  .of  which  I 
was  not  fully  aware  before  commencing  the 
work,  has  sometimes  thrown  a  hesitancy 
— I  had  almost  said  a  delicacy — in  the 
way  of  writing  with  the  strength  which 
the  occasion  demanded ;  and  I  could  not 
but  feel  that  the  subject  itself  was  one 
better  calculated  for  confidential  fireside 
intercourse,  than  for  a  printed  volume. 

But  if  then  the  principles  it  has  been 
my  simple  aim  to  advocate,  should  meet 
the  approbation  of  my  countrywomen,  I 
would  fondly  hope  to  be  associated  with 
their  fireside  enjoyments  as  one  whose 
highj£sjj3aj[thly_juTibition  would  have  been 
to  render  their  pleasures  more  enduring, 
thoir  hopes  more  elc-vatrd.  and  their  liap- 
pinegsjmore  secure^ 

Rosr  HILL,  February  16th,  1&13. 


THE 


WIVES    OF    ENGLAND. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THOUGHTS  BEFORE  MARRIAGE. 

Is  commencing  a  work  addressed  particu- 
larly to  married  women,  it  might  appear  a 
little  out  of  place  to  devote  a  whole  chapter 
to  the  subject  of  "  thoughts  before  marriage," 
did  not  the  writer  suppose  it  probable,  that  if 
married  women  should  deem  the  following 
pages  worthy  of  their  notice,  those  who  are 
about  to  assume  the  responsibility  of  wives, 
might  feel  equally  curious  to  ascertain  the 
nature  of  their  contents.  In  this  chapter, 
then,  I  would  venture  to  recommend  a  few 
inquiries  to  those  who  have  not  yet  passed 
the  Rubicon,  and  with  whom,  therefore,  it 
may  not  be  too  late  to  retract,  if  they  should 
find  they  have  not  correctly  calculated  the 
consequences  of  the  step  they  are  about  to 
take ;  or,  what  is  still  more  probable,  if  they 
have  not  coolly  and  impartially  estimated 
their  own  capability  for  rendering  it  one  of 
prudence  and  safety  both  to  themselves  and 
others.  On  the  other  hand,  the  inquiries  I 
would  propose,  are  such  as,  where  the  mind 
[  and  character  are  fitly  prepared  for  this  im- 
portant change,  will  tend  to  confirm  the  best 
resolutions ;  while  they  will  assist  in  detect- 
ing every  latent  evil  which  might  otherwise 
lie  in  wait,  to  rise  up  after  the  season  of  de- 
liberation is  past,  like  clouds  in  the  horizon, 
which  gradually  spread  their  gloom  across 
the  sky,  and  finally  obscure  the  sunshine  of 
every  future  day. 

The  great  object  to  be  aimed  at  by  all  wo- 
men about  to  enter  upon  the  married  state, 
is  to  examine  calmly  and  dispassionately  the 
requirements  of  this  state ;  to  put  away  all 


personal  feeling ;  and  to  be  not  only  willing, 
but  determined,  to  look  the  subject  fairly  in 
the  face,  and  to  see  its  practical  bearing  upon 
the  interest  and  the  happiness  of  those  with 
whom  they  may  be  associated. 

Perhaps  there  never  yet  was  a  woman  of 
warm  feelings,  or  man  either,  who  had  not, 
in  early  life,  some  vision  of  conjugal  felicity, 
which  after  experience  and  knowledge  of  the 
world  have  failed  to  stamp  with  the  impress 
of  reality.  Some,  believing  themselves  capa- 
ble of  contributing  their  share" to  this  measure 
of  earthly  happiness,  and  disappointed  in  not 
finding  an  equal  companion,  hav&  wisely 
declined  entering  upon  the  married  state 
altogether;  while  others,  more  confident  of 
success,  have  made  the  experiment  for  them- 
selves, believing,  that  though  all  the  world 
may  have  failed  in  realizing  their  dreams  of 
bliss,  they  and  theirs  will  be  fortunate  enough 
to  exhibit  to  the  wonder  of  mankind,  an  in- 
stance of  perfect  connubial  happiness. 

It  is  needless  to  decide  which  of  these  two 
parties  deserve  the  highest  meed  of  commen- 
dation for  their  prudence  and  common  s^nse. 
But  it  is  equally  needless  to  belong  to  either 
class  of  individuals.  "  What !"  exclaims  the 
young  enthusiast,  "shall  we  not  even  hope  to 
be  happy  7"  Yes.  Let  us  hope  as  long  as 
we  can ;  but- let  it  be  in  subservience  to  rea- 
son and  to  truth.  Let  us  hope  only  to  be 
happy  ourselves,  so  long  as  we  make  others 
happy  too ;  and  let  us  expect  no  measure  of 
felicity  beyond  what  this  world  has  afforded 
to  those  who  were  wiser  and  better  than  we 
are. 

"  But  why  then,"  exclaims  the  same  en- 
thusiast, "all  the  fine  talk  we  hear  about 


THE  WIVES  OF  ENGLAND. 


marriage  7  and  why,  in  all  the  stories  we 
read,  is  marriage  made  the  end  of  woman's 
existence?"  Ah!  there  lies  the  evil.  Mar- 
riage, like  death,  is  too  often  looked  upon  as 
the  end;  whereas  both  are  but  the  beginning 
of  states  of  existence  infinitely  more  import- 
ant than  that  by  which  they  were  preceded ; 
yet  each  taking  from  that  their  tone  and 
character,  and  each  proportioned  in  their  en- 
joyment to  the  previous  preparation  which 
has  been  made  for  their  happiness  or  misery. 
The  education  of  young  ladies  is  too  fre- 
quently such  as  to  lead  them  naturally  to 
suppose,  that  all  the  training,  and  all  the  dis- 
cipline they  undergo,  has  reference  only  to 
this  end.  The  first  evidence  that  marriage  is 
thus  regarded  by  many  young  women,  is 
seen  in  a  petulant  rebellion  against  the  re- 
straints of  home,  and  the  requirements  of 
parental  authority,  accompanied  by  a  threat, 
not  always  distinctly  uttered,  that  the  first 
opportunity  of  escaping  from  domestic  thral- 
dom shall  not  be  neglected.  This  species  of 
rebellion  against  rightful  authority,  is  much 
cherished  by  school-companions  and  sisters ; 
while  the  gossip  of  servants,  to  whom  the 
indignant  sufferers  sometimes  appeal,  and 
the  general  tenor  of  what  is  called  light  read- 
ing, tend  to  keep  up  the  same  kind  of  spir- 
ited determination  to  rush  upon  the  uncer- 
tainties of  marriage,  in  the  hope  of  escaping 
from  the  certainties  of  home.  A  polite  and 
flattering  lover  next  presents  himself.  The 
persecuted  or  neglected  damsel  finds  at  last 
that  her  merits  are  appreciated,  and  while 
the  gates  of  an  imaginary  Eden  are  still 
open,  she  enters  eagerly  among  its  fruits  and 
flowers,  never  stopping  to  inquire  if 

"  The  trail  of  the  serpent  is  over  them  still." 

Such  is  the  natural  history  of  one  half  at 
least  of  those  early  marriages,  which  fix  the 
doom  of  women  forhhis  world,  and  some- 
times for  the  next  What  wonder,  then, 
that  a  sincere  and  earliest  friend,  and  an  af- 
fectionate well-wisher  of  her  sex,  should 
deem  it  necessary,  even  on  the  near  approach 
of  that  day  which  is  generally  spoken  of  as 
making  two  human  beings  happy,  to  request 


the  weaker,  and  consequently  the  more  easily 
deluded  party,  to  pause  and  think  again. 

Although  I  am  one  of  the  last  persons  who 
could  wish  to  introduce  in  any  plausible  form, 
to  an  upright  and  honorable  mind,  the  bare 
idea  of  the  possibility  of  breaking  an  engage- 
ment ;  yet  as  there  are  cases  in  which  an  en- 
gagement of  marriage,  if  literally  kept,  must 
necessarily  be  violated  in  spirit,  I  cannot  help 
thinking,  that  of  two  evils,  it  is,  in  this  case, 
especially  desirable  to  choose  the  least ;  and 
to  prefer  inflicting  a  temporary  pain,  and  en- 
during an  inevitable  disgrace,  to  being  the 
means  of  destroying  the  happiness  of  a  life- 
time, with  the  self-imposed  accompaniment 
of  endless  remorse. 

In  the  first  place,  then,  I  would  ask,  are 
you  about  to  bring  to  the  altar,  and  to  offer, 
in  thu  sight  of  God,  a  faithful  and  devoted 
heart  1  To  answer  with  a  mere  expression 
of  belief,-  is  not  sufficient  here.  There  must 
be  certainty  on  this  point,  if  not  on  any 
other.  There  are  many  tests  by  which 
this  important  fact  may  be  ascertained,  and 
of  these  I  shall  particularize  a  few.  The 
first  is,  whom  are  you  loving  ? — the  man  who 
stands  before  you  with  all  his  "  imperfections 
on  his  head" — his  faults  of  temper,  follies,  in- 
consistencies, and  past  misdeeds?  Is  this 
the  man  you  love  ?  or  is  it  some  ideal  and 
perfect  being  whom  you  will  fail  to  recognise 
in  the  husband  of  your  after  life  ?  If  the  lat- 
ter case  be  yours,  go  back,  and  wait,  for  your 
acquaintance  has  yet  to  be  formed  on  the 
only  sure  basis — that  of  honesty  and  truth ; 
and  you  might  as  safely  unite  yourself  with 
a  being  you  had  never  seen  before,  as  with 
one  whom  you  had  seen  without  having 
known  or  understood.^  $-<uxi  fa 

The  discovery  that  you  have  mistaken  the 
real  character  of  your  lover,  need  not,  how- 
ever, be  any  barrier  to  the  ultimate  fulfilment 
of  your  engagement  with  him.  All  that  you 
have  to  do,  is  to  wait  until  you  have  studied 
his  real  character,  and  ascertained  that  you 
can  still  love  him,  though  you  no  longer  be- 
lieve him  to  be  without  a  fault 

During  the  progress  of  this  study,  the  de- 
lay it  will  necessarily  occasion,  may  be  made 


THOUGHTS  BEFORE  MARRIAGE. 


o  answer  two  valuable  ends ;  for  at  the  same 
ime  that  you  have  been  deceived,  it  is  more 
han  probable  that  you  have  been  deceiving. 
Sot  intentionally,  perhaps,  yet  the  effect  may 
>e  as  calamitous  as  if  you  had  designedly 
practised  upon  the  partial  credulity  of  your 
over.  It  is  of  the  utmost  importance,  then, 
that  you  inquire  into  the  nature  of  your  own 
conduct,  not  only  towards  him,  but  towards 
others  in  his  presence.  Have  you,  during 
he  season  of  courtship,  been  acting  a  part 


wjiich  you  never  before  sustained,  or  which 
you   do  not  intend  to  sustain  as  a  wife? 


Haye_you  been  more  amiable  to  ymr 


tn  ymir  hus- 


band_t  If  you  have,  there  are  two  ways  of 
remedying  this  evil,  for  an  evil  it  certainly  is ; 
and  one  of  these  you  are  bound  in  common 
honesty  to  adopt:  you  must  either  defer 
your  marriage  until  your  real  character  has 
been  brought  to  light,  and  clearly  understood ; 
or,  you  must  determine,  from  this  time  for- 
ward, by  the  Divine  blessing  on  your  endeav- 
ors, that  you  will  be  in  reality  the  amiable 
being  you  have  appeared. 

And  now,  having  learned  to  see  your  lover 
as  he  is,  I  would  ask  again,  whether  you  are 
quite  sure  that  your  affections  are  entirely 
and  irrevocably  his.  Jf  on  this  point  there  is 
doubt,  there  must  be  danger  ;  but  still  there 
are  tests  to  be  applied,  which  may  in  some 
measure  reduce  those  doubts  to  certainty 
The  most  important  question,  in  a  case  of 
doubt,  is,  whether  your  heart  lingers  after 
any  other  object ;  and  this  may  be  best  as- 
certained by  asking  yourself  still  further 
whether  there  is  any  other  man  in  the  world 
of  whom  it  would  givre  you  pain  to  hear  that 
he  was  likely  to  be  married.  If  there  is  not 
you  are  in  all  probability  safe  in  this  respect, 
and  yet  you  may  not  love  the  man  you  are 
about  to  marry,  as  he  hopes,  deserves,  and 
believes  himself  to  be  loved.  I  would  ask 
then,  are  you  weary  of  his  presence,  and  re 
lieved  when  he  goes  away  1  or  are  you  dis 
posed  to  exercise  less  charity  and  forbear 
ance  towards  his  faults,  than  towards  tto 
faults  of  others  1  for  if  his  failings  annoy  and 
irritate  you  more  than  those  of  men  in  gen 


eral,  depend  upon  it,  you  do  not  love  him  as 

you  ought    If,  too,  you  feel  ashamed  of  him 

•efore  marriage,  there  is  little  probability  that 

ou  will  afterwards  evince  towards  him  that 

respect  and  reverence  which  is  right  and 

seemly  in  a  wife. 

In  order  to  ascertain  these  points  clearly,  it 
s  good  for  every  woman  before  she  marries, 
o  see  the  man  of  her  choice  in  the  company 
of  her  friends,  and  especially  to  see  him  as- 
sociated and  compared  with  those   whose 
opinion  she  esteems  most  highly.    We  are 
all  more  or  less  influenced  by  the  secret  sym- 
pathies of  our  common  nature.    In  nothing 
can  we  think  or  feel  alone  ;  and  few  cases 
show  more  plainly  the  weakness  and  liability 
to  delusion  under  which  we  labor,  than  the 
strong  confidence  we  sometimes  entertain  in 
the  correctness  of  our  own  judgment,  until 
some  new  trial  is  made  ;  and  then  immedi- 
ately, as  if  by  a  kind  of  instinct,  placing  our- 
selves in  the  situation  of  others,  we  see  as 
it  were   with  their  eyes,  think  with  their 
thoughts,   and  arrive   at  their  conclusions. 
This  tendency  of  our  nature  is  often  discover- 
ed in  the  reading  of  books,  which  we  have  both 
enjoyed  and  admired  alone ;  but  no  sooner 
do  we  read  them  in  company  with  a  critica 
friend,  than  we  see  at  once  their  defects,  and 
can  even  use  against  them  the  same  powers 
of  criticism  ourselves.    Happy  is  it  for  those 
whose  judgment,  thus  influenced,  is  confined 
in  its  exercise  to  books  ! — happy  for  them  if 
they  never  know  what  it  is  to  find  the  talents 
and  the  recommendations  of  a  lover  disap- 
pear in  a  moment,  on  the  approach  of  an  in- 
teresting and  influential  friend,  and  disappear 
in  such  a  way  as  never  to  be  recalled  again ! 
Yet,  having  stood  this  test,  it  is  still  possi- 
ble to   doubt,  and,  without  sufficient  love 
your  engagement  may  still  be  only  iust  drag- 
ged on,  because  you  have  no  sufficient  plea 
for  breaking  it  off.    You  may  perhaps  esteem 
your  lover  highly  ;  you  may  feel  grateful  for 
his  kindness,  and  flattered  by  his  admiration 
you  may  also  feel  a  strong  desire  to  make 
him  the  happy  man  he  believes  he  can  be 
with  you,  and  you  alone — you  may  feel  all 
this,  and  yet,  I  repeat,  you  may  not  love  him 


3 


THE  WIVES  OF  ENGLAND. 


as  a  woman  ought  to  love  her  husband. 
This  will  be  more  clearly  proved  by  an  in- 
crease of  sadness  on  your  part,  as  the  time 
of  your  marriage  draws  near,  an  indefinite 
apprehension  that  with  you  the  pleasures  of 
life  are  at  an  end,  and  a  determination,  re- 
quiring often  to  be  renewed,  that  at  least  you 
will  do  your  duty  to  one  who  deserves  every 
thing  from  you. 

f  Let  me,  however,  ask  what  this  duty  is  ! 
It  is  not  merely  to  serve  him  ;  a  hired  menial 
could  do  that  The  duty  of  a  wife  is  what 
no  woman  ever  yet  was  able  to  render  with- 
out affection ;  and  it  is  therefore  the  height 
of  presumption  to  think  that  you  can  coldly 
fulfil  a  duty,  the  very  spirit  of  which  is  that 
of  love  itself. 

It  is  possible,  however,  that  you  may  still 
be  mistaken.  It  is  possible  that  the  gradual 
opening  of  your  eyes  from  the  visions  of  girl- 
ish romance,  which  are  apt  to  flit  before  the 
imaginative  and  inexperienced,  may  have 
given  you  a  distaste  both  for  your  compan- 
ion, and  your  future  lot  If  this  be  the  case, 
the  difficulty  will  be  easily  overcome  by  the 
exercise  of  a  little  good  feeling  and  common 
sense.  But  in  order  to  prove  that  this  is  real- 
ly all,  put  this  question  to  yourself— if  you 
were  quite  sure  there  was  some  other  woman 
as  amiable,  or  more  so,  than  you,  with  whom 
your  friend  could  be  equally  happy,  would 
you  feel  pleasure  in  his  cultivating  her  ac- 
quaintance instead  of  yours? 

If  you  can  answer  this  question  in  the 
negative,  you  may  yet  be  safe ;  if  not,  the 
case  is  too  decided  to  admit  of  a  moment's 
hesitation.  Your  own  integrity,  and  a  sense 
of  justice  towards  your  friend,  equally  dictate 
the  propriety  of  making  him  acquainted  with 
the  painful,  the  humiliating  fact,  that  you  do 
not  love  him  ;  and  no  man,  after  being  con- 
vinced of  this,  could  desire  the  fulfilment  of 
a  mere  nominal  engagement 

I  am  aware  that  the  opinion  of  the  world 
and  the  general  voice  of  society  are  against 
such  conduct,  even  where  love  is  wanting ; 
and  I  am  equally  aware,  that  no  woman 
ought  to  venture  upon  breaking  an  engage- 
raent  on  such  grounds,  without  feeling  her- 


self  humbled  to  the  very  dust ;  but  I  am  not 
the  less  convinced,  that  it  is  the  only  safe, 
the  only  just  line  of  conduct  which  remains 
to  her  who  finds  herself  thus  circumstanced, 
and  that  it  is  in  reality  more  generous  to  her 
lover,  than  if  she  kept  u  the  word  of  promise 
to  his  ear,  and  broke  it  to  his  l»ope." 

But  there  may  be  other  causes  besides  this, 
why  an  engagement  should  not  be  fulfilled. 
There  may  be  a  want  of  love  on  the  part  of 
your  friend,  or  there  may  be  instances  of 
unfaithfulness  too  glaring  to  be  overlooked ; 
and  here  let  it  be  observed,  that  woman's 
lovejnay  grow  after  marriage— man's,  never. 


If|therefore,  he  is  indifferent  or  unfaithful  as 
a  lover,  what  must  be  expected  of  him  as  a 
husbandj_ 

It  is  one  of  the  greatest  misfortunes  to 
which  women  are  liable,  that  they  cannot, 
consistently  with  female  delicacy,  cultivate, 
before  an  engagement  is  made,  an  acquaint- 
ance sufficiently  intimate  to  lead  to  the  dis- 
covery of  certain  facts  which  would  at  once 
decide  the  point,  whether  it  was  prudent  to 
proceed  further  towards  taking  that  step, 
which  is  universally  acknowledged  to  be  the 
most  important  in  a  woman's  life. 

One  of  these  facts,  which  can  only  be  as- 
certained on  a  close  acquaintance,  is  the 
tendency  there  is  in  some  individuals  to 
overawe,  and  keep  others  at  a  distance. 
Now,  if  on  the  near  approach  of  marriage, 
a  woman  finds  this  tendency  in  the  compan- 
ion she  has  chosen,  if  she  cannot  open  to 
him  her  whole  heart,  or  if  he  does  not  open 
his  heart  tojierjimt  maintains  a  distant  kind 
of  authoritative  manner,  which  shuts  her  out 
from  sympathy  and  equality  with  himselft  it 
is  time  for  herjp  pfl'np,  and  think  seriously 
before  she  binds  herself  for  life  to  that  worst 
f_a  husband.  I  have 

no  sc  r  uple  musing  this  expression,  because 
where  the  connection  is  so  intimate,  and  the 
sphere  of  action  necessarily  so  confined,  if 
fear  usurps  the  place  of  confidence  and  love, 
it  must  naturally  engender  a  servile  disposi- 
tion to  deceive,  either  by  falsehood  or  eva- 
sion, wherever  blame  would  attach  to  a  full 
disclosure  of  the  truth. 


THOUGHTS  BEFORE  MARRIAGE. 


I  have  already  said  that  it  is  a  prudent  plan 
for  the  woman  who  intends  to  marry,  to  try 
the  merits  of  her  lover,  or  rather  her  own  es- 
timate of  them,  by  allowing  him  an  opportu- 
nity of  associating  with  her  friends.     Such 
precautionary  measures,  however,  are  not 
easily  carried  out,  except  at  some  sacrifice  of 
delicate  and  generous  feeling ;  and,  generally 
speaking,  the  less  a  woman  allows  her  name 
to  be  associated  with  that  of  her  husband  be- 
fore marriage,  the  better.     It  is  sometimes 
argued  that  an  engagement  entered  into  with 
right  feelings,  is  of  so  binding  and  sacred  a 
nature,  that   persons  thus  related   to   each 
other,  may  be  seen  together,  both  in  public 
and  private,  almost  as  if  they  were  really 
married ;  and  to  such  it  may  appear  a  cold 
kind  of  caution  still  to  say  "beware!"     Yet 
such  is  the  uncertain  nature  of  all  human  af- 
fairs, that  we  need  not  look  far  for  instances 
of  the  most  improbable  changes  taking  place, 
after  all  possibility  of  change  had  been  ban- 
ished from  our  thoughts.     Within  a  month, 
a  week,  nay,  even  a  day,  of  marriage,  there 
have  been  discoveries  made  which  have  ful- 
ly justified  an  entire  disunion  of  the  parties 
thus  associated ;  and  then  how  much  better 
has  it  been,  where  their  names  had  not  been 
previously  united,  and  where  their  appearance 
together  had  not  impressed  the  idea  of  indis- 
soluble connection  upon  the  minds  of  others ! 
One  of  the  most  justifiable,  and  at  the  same 
time  one  of  the  most  melancholy  causes  for 
such  disunion,  is  the  discovery  of  symptoms 
of  insanity.     Even  a  highly  excited  and  dis- 
ordered state  of  the  nervous  system,  will 
operate  with  a  prudent  woman  against  an 
alliance  of  this  nature.     Yet  here  again,  it  is 
particularly  unfortunate,  that  in  cases  of  ner- 
vous derangement,  the  discovery  is  seldom 
fully  made  except   in  the  progress  of  that 
close  intimacy  which  immediately  precedes 
marriage,  and  which  consequently  assumes 
the  character  of  an  indissoluble  engagement. 
Symptoms  of  this  nature,  however,  when  ex- 
hibited in  the  conduct  of  a  man,  are  of  the 
most  serious  and  alarming  character.    A  wo- 
man laboring  under  such  maladies,  in  their 
milder  form,  may  be  so  influenced  by  authori- 


ty as  to  be  kept  from  doing  any  very  exten- 
sive harm ;  but  when  a  man,  with  the  reins 
of  government  in  his  hand,  loses  the  power 
to  guide  them,  when  his  mind  becomes  the 
victim  of  morbid  feeling,  and  his  energies 
sink  under  imaginary  burdens,  there  is  no 
calculating  the  extent  of  calamity  which  may 
result  to  the  woman  who  would  be  rash 
enough  to  link  her  destiny  with  his. 

Another  justifiable  reason  for  setting  aside 
an  engagement  of  marriage,  or  protracting 
the  fulfilment  of  it,  is  a  failure  of  health,  es- 
pecially when  either  this,  or  the  kind  of  mala- 
dy already  noticed,  induces  an  incapacity  for 
business,  and  for  the  duties  which  generally 
devolve  upon  the  master  of  a  household.  It 
is  true,  that  in  cases  wrhere  the  individual 
thus  afflicted  does  not  himself  see  the  pro- 
priety of  withdrawing  from  the  engagement, 
the  hard,  and  apparently  selfish  part  a  wo- 
man has  to  act  on  these  occasions  is  such  as, 
in  addition  to  her  own  sufferings,  will  proba- 
bly bring  upon  her  the  blame  of  many  who 
do  not,  and  who  cannot,  understand  the  case ; 
and  the  more  delicate  her  feelings  are  towards 
the  friend  she  is  thus  compelled  to  treat  with 
apparent  harshness,  the  less  likely  she  will 
be  to  exculpate  herself  by  an  exposure  to  the 
world  of  his  inconsistency,  or  his  weakness. 
Thus,  as  in  many  of  the  acts  of  woman's  life, 
she  has  to  be  the  sufferer  every  way;  but 
still  that  suffering  is  less  to  every  one  con- 
cerned, than  if  she  plunged  herself  into  all 
the  lamentable  consequences  of  a  union  with 
a  man  who  wanted  either  the  mental  or  the 
physical  capacity  to  keep  her  and  hers  from 
poverty  and  distress.  In  the  former  case, 
she  will  have  the  dictates  of  prudence  and  of 
conscience  in  her  favor.  In  both,  the  world 
will  be  lavish  of  its  blame ;  but  in  the  latter 
only,  could  her  portion  be  that  of  self-con- 
demnation, added  to  irremediable  misery. 

After  all  these  considerations  have  been 
duly  weighed,  and  every  test  of  truth  and 
constancy  applied  to  your  affection  for  the 
object  of  your  choice,  there  may  yet  remain 
considerations  of  infinite  moment  as  they  re- 
late to  your  own  fitness  for  entering  upon  the 
married  state. 


10 


THE  WIVES  OF  ENGLAND. 


In  the  first  place,  what  is  it  you  are  ex- 
pecting?— to  be  always  flattered?  Depend 
upon  it,  if  your  faults  were  never  brought  to 
light  before,  they  will  be  so  now.  Are  you 
expecting  to  be  always  indulged?  Depend 
upon  it,  if  your  temper  was  never  tried  be- 
fore, it  will  be  so  now.  Are  you  expecting 
to  be  always  admired  ?  Depend  upon  it,  if 
you  were  never  humble  and  insignificant  be- 
fore, you  will  have  to  be  so  now.  Yes,  you 
had  better  make  up  your  mind  at  once  to  be 
uninteresting  as  long  as  you  live,  to  all  ex- 
cept the  companion  of  your  home  ;  and  well 
will  it  be  for  you,  if  you  can  always  be  inter- 
esting to  him.  You,  had  better  settle  it  in 
your  calculations,  that^you  will  have  to  be 
crossed  oftener  than  the  day ;  and  the  part 
of  wisdom  will  dictate,  that  if  you  persist  in 
your  determination  to  be 


not  only  be  satisfied,  But  ,cheerful_tg_Jja.ve 
these  things  so. 

k  One  important  truth  sufficiently  impressed 
upon  your  mind  will  materially  assist  in  this 
desirable  consummation — it  is  the  superiority 
of  your  husband,  simply  .as  a  man.  It  is 
quite  possible  you  may  have  more  talent, 
with  higher  attainments,  and  you  may  also 
have  been  generally  more  admired ;  but  this 
has  nothing  whatever  to  do  with  your  posi- 
tion as  a  woman,  which  is,  and  must  be, 
inferior  to  his  as  a  man.  For  want  of  a 
satisfactory  settlement  of  this  point  before 
marriage,  how  many  disputes  and  misunder- 
standings have  ensued,  filling,  as  with  the 
elements  of  discord  and  strife,  that  world  of 
existence  which  ought  to  be  a  smiling  Eden 
of  perpetual  flowers — not  of  flowers  which 
never  fade ;  but  of  flowers  which,  if  they 
must  die,  neither  droop  nor  wither  from  the 
canker  in  their  own  bosoms,  or  the  worm 
which  lies  at  their  own  roots. 

It  is  a  favorite  argument  with  untried 
youth,  that  all  things  will  come  right  in  the 
end,  where  there  is  a  sufficiency  of  love ;  but 
is  it  enough  for  the  subjection  of  a  woman's 
will,  that  she  should  love  her  husband  ? 
Alas  !  observation  and  experience  alike  con- 
vince us,  that  love  has  been  well  represented 
as  a  wayward  boy ;  and  the  alternate  ex- 


hibitions  of  contradiction  and  fondness  which 
are  dictated  by  affection  alone,  though  inter- 
esting enough  before  the  nuptial  knot  is  tied, 
are  certainly  not  those  features  in  the  aspect 
of  his  domestic  affairs,  whose  combination  a 
prudent  man  would  most  desire. 

It  is  to  sound  judgment  then,  and  right 
principle,  that  we  must  look,  with  the  bless- 
ing of  the  Bestower  of  these  good  gifts,  for 
ability  to  make  a  husband  happy — sound 
judgment  to  discern  what  is  the  place  de- 
signed for  him  and  for  us,  in  the  arrange- 
ments of  an  all- wise  Providence — and  right 
principle  to  bring  down  every  selfish  desire, 
and  every  rebellious  thought,  to  a  due  sub- 
serviency in  the  general  estimate  we  form 
of  individual  duty. 

But  supposing  this  point  satisfactorily  set- 
tled, and  an  earnest  and  prayerful  determina- 
tion entered  into  to  be  but  a  secondary  being 
in  the  great  business  of  conducting  the  gen- 
eral affairs  of  social  life,  there  are  a  few 
things  yet  to  be  thought  of,  a  few  duties  yet 
to  be  discharged,  before  the  final  step  can 
properly  be  taken.  In  the  warmth  and  en- 
thusiasm of  youthful  feeling,  few  women 
look  much  beyond  themselves  in  the  calcu- 
lations they  make  upon  their  married  future. 
To  be  loved,  and  cherished,  is  all  they  ap- 
pear solicitous  to  stipulate  for,  forgetting  the 
many  wants  and  wishes  that  will  necessarily 
arise  out  of  the  connection  they  are  about  to 
form.  It  may  not  be  out  of  place  then  to 
remind  them,  how  essential  it  is  to  comfort 
in  the  married  state,  that  there  should  have 
been  beforehand  a  clear  understanding,  and 
a  strict  agreement,  with  regard  bom  to  the 
general  style  of  living,  and  the  friendships 
and  associations  to  be  afterwards  maintained. 
All  secret  wishes  and  intentions  on  these 
subjects,  concealed  by  one  party  from  the 
fear  of  their  being  displeasing  to  the  other, 
are  ominous  of  future  disaster ;  and,  indeed, 
I  would  almost  venture  so  far  as  to  advise, 
that  unless  such  preliminaries  can  be  satis- 
factorily adjusted,  the  parties  had  better  make 
up  their  minds  to  separate ;  for  these  causes  of 
difference  will  be  of  such  frequent  occurrence, 
as  to  leave  little  prospect  of  domestic  peace. 


THOUGHTS  BEFORE  MARRIAGE. 


11 


If,  however,  the  companion  of  your  future 
home  should  not  be  disposed  to  candor  on 
these  points,  you  will  probably  have  oppor- 
tunities of  judging  for  yourself;  and  such 
means  of  forming  your  conclusions  ought  on 
no  account  to  be  neglected.  You  will  pro- 
bably, for  instance,  have  opportunies  of  as- 
certaining whether  he  is  one  of  those  who 
place  their  chief  happiness  in  what  is  called 
good  living,  or,  in  other  words,  in  the  pleas- 
ures of  the  table ;  and  if  in  his  estimation 
wine  forms  a  prominent  part  of  these  enjoy- 
ments, let  not  the  fear  of  the  world's  censure 
operate  for  one  moment  against  your  sepa- 
rating yourself  from  such  a  man.  If  this 
should  seem  a  harsh  and  hasty  conclusion, 
remember  that  the  evils  of  a  gross  and  self- 
indulgent  habit  are  such  as  generally  increase 
with  the  advance  of  years,  and,  as  the  natu- 
ral spirits  fail,  and  health  becomes  impaired, 
are  liable  to  give  rise  to  the  most  fatal  mala- 
dies both  of  mind  and  body.  If,  then,  there 
is  danger  and  disgust  to  apprehend  on  the 
side  of  indulgence,  it  is  on  the  other  hand  a 
hard  and  unthankful  duty  for  the  wife  to  be 
perpetually  restraining  the  appetite  of  her 
husband,  and  preaching  up  the  advantages 
of  abstinence  to  the  man  she  loves.  Nor  is 
it  improbable,  or  of  rare  occurrence,  that  un- 
der such  circumstances  she  should  actually 
lose  his  affection,  for  men  like  not  the  con- 
stant imposition  of  restraint  upon  their  wish- 
es; and  so  much  happier — so  much  more 
privileged  is  the  situation  of  her  who  can 
safely  minister  to  the  desires  of  her  husband, 
that  I  would  recommend  to  every  woman  to 
choose  the  man  who  can  with  propriety  be  in- 
dulged, rather  than  him  whose  habits  of  self- 
gratification  already  require  restraint. 

As  the  time  of  your  marriage  draws  near, 
you  will  naturally  be  led  with  ease  and  pleas- 
ure into  that  kind  of  unlimited  confidence 
with  the  companion  of  your  future  lot,  which 
forms  in  reality  the  great  charm  of  married 
life.  But  even  here  a  caution  is  required, 
for  though  all  the  future,  as  connected  with 
your  own  experience,  must  belong  to  him, 
all  the  past  must  belong  to  others.  Never, 
therefore,  make  it  the  subject  of  your  confi- 


dential intercourse  to  relate  the  history  of 
your  former  love  affairs,  if  you  have  had 
any.  It  is  bad  taste  to  allude  to  them  at  all, 
but  especially  so  under  such  circumstances  ; 
and  although  such  details  might  serve  to 
amuse  for  the  moment,  they  would  in  all 
probability  be  remembered  against  you  at 
some  future  time,  when  each  day  will  be 
sufficiently  darkened  by  its  own  passing 
clouds. 

With  regard  to  all  your  other  love  affairs 
then,  let  "  by-gones  be  by-gones."  It  could 
do  no  good  whatever  for  you  to  remember 
them ;  and  the  more  you  are  dissociated 
from  every  other  being  of  his  own  sex,  the 
more  will  the  mind  of  your  husband  dwell 
upon  you  with  unalloyed  satisfaction.  On 
the  other  hand,  let  no  ill-advised  curiosity 
induce  you  to  pry  too  narrowly  into  his  past 
life  as  regards  affairs  of  this  nature.  How- 
ever close  your  inquiries,  they  may  still  be 
baffled  by  evasion  ;  and  if  it  be  an  important 
point  with  you,  as  many  women  profess  to 
make  it,  to  occupy  an  unsullied  page  in  the  ^ 
affections  of  your  husband,  it  is  wiser  and 
safer  to  take  for  granted  this  flattering  fact, 
than  to  ask  whether  any  other  name  has 
been  written  on  that  page  before.  In  this 
case,  as  well  as  your  own,  both  honor  and 
delicacy  would  suggest  the  propriety  of  draw- 
ing a  veil  over  the  past.  It  is  sufficient  for 
the  happiness  of  married  life  that  you  share 
together  the  present  and  the  future. 

With  such  a  field  for  the  interchange  of 
mutual  thought,  there  can  surely  be  no  want 
of  interest  in  your  conversation,  for  the  ar- 
rangements to  be  made  are  so  new  to  both, 
and  consequently  so  fraught  with  importance, 
that  parties  thus  circumstanced,  are  pro- 
verbially good  company  only  to  each  other. 
Amongst  these  arrangements,  if  the  choice 
of  a  residence  be  permitted  you,  and  espe- 
cially if  your  own  temper  is  not  good,  or  your 
manners  not  conciliating,  avoid,  as  far  as 
you  can  do  so  with  prudence,  and  without 
thwarting  your  husband's  wishes,  any  very 
close  contact  with  his  nearest  rclati-ves. 
There  are  not  wanting  numerous  instances 
in  which  the  greatest  intimacy  and  most  fa- 


12 


THE  WIVES  OF  ENGLAND. 


miliar  associations  of  this  kind  have  been 
kept  up  with  mutual  benefit  and  satisfaction  ; 
but  generally  speaking  it  is  a  risk,  and  you 
may  not  yourself  be  sufficiently  amiable  to 
bear,  with  a  meek  and  quiet  spirit,  the  general 
oversight,  and  well-meant  interference,  which 
mothers  and  sisters  naturally  expect  to  main- 
tain in  the  household  of  a  son  and  a  brother. 
These  considerations,  however,  must  of 
course  give  way  to  the  wishes  of  the  hus- 
band and  his  family,  as  it  is  of  the  utmost 
importance  not  to  offend  his  relatives  in  the 
outset  by  any  appearance  of  contradiction 
self-will ;  and  besides  which,  he  and  hi 
friends  will  be  better  judges  than  you  can  be 
of  the  general  reasons  for  fixing  your  future 
residence. 

And  now,  as  the  time  draws  near,  are  you 
quite  sure  that  your  means  are  sufficient  to 
enable  you  to  begin  the  world  with  indepen- 
dence and  respectability  ?  Perhaps  you  are 
not  a  judge,  and  if  not,  you  have  no  right  to 
think  of  becoming  a  wife  ;  fpr  young  men  in 
general  have  little  opportunity  of  making 
themselves  acquainted  with  household  econ- 
omy ;  and  who  then  is  to  make  those  innu- 
merable calculations  upon  which  will  depend, 
not  only  the  right  government  of  your  estab- 
lishment, but  also  your  peace  of  mind,  your 
integrity  of  character,  and  your  influence  for 
time  and  for  eternity  7 

Oh  !  what  a  happy  day  would  that  be  for 
Britain,  whose  morning  should  smile  upon 
the  making  of  a  law  for  allowing  no  woman 
to  marry  until  she  had  become  an  economist, 
thoroughly  acquainted  with  the  necessary  ex- 
penses of  a  respectable  mode  of  living,  and 
able  to  calculate  the  requirements  of  comfort, 
in  connection  with  all  the  probable  contin- 
gencies of  actual  life.  If  such  a  law  should 
be  so  cruel  as  to  suspend  for  a  year  or  more 
every  approach  to  the  hymeneal  altar,  it 
would,  at  least,  be  equally  effectual  in  avert- 
ing that  bitter  repentance  with  which  so 
many  look  back  to  the  hurried  and  thought- 
less manner  in  which  they  rushed  blindfold 
upon  an  untried  fate,  and  only  opened  their 
eyes  to  behold  their  madness  and  folly,  when 
it  was  too  late  to  avert  the  fatal  consequences. 


As  a  proof  how  little  young  men  in  gene- 
ral are  acquainted  with  these  matters,  I  have 
heard  many  who  fully  calculated  upon  living 
in  a  genteel  and  comfortable  style,  declare 
that  a  hundred  pounds  was  sufficient  for  the 
furnishing  of  a  house.  Thus  a  hundred 
pounds  on  one  side,  either  saved,  borrowed, 
or  begged,  and  fifty  on  the  other,  are  not  un- 
frequently  deemed  an  ample  provision,  with 
a  salary  of  two  hundred,  to  begin  the  world 
with.  It  is  true  the  young  man  finds  that 
salary  barely  sufficient  for  himself;  but  then, 
he  hears  and  reads  how  much  is  saved  un- 
der good  female  management,  and  he  doubts 
not  but  his  deficiencies  will  be  more  than 
made  up  by  his  wife.'  It  is  true  the  young 
lady,  with  her  ill  health,  and  music  lessons, 
and  change  of  air,  costs  her  lather  at  least 
fifty  pounds  per  annum,  but  she  does  not 
see  how  she  shall  cost  her  husband  any  thing 
at  all !  Sweet  soul !  She  needs  so  little,  and 
really  would  be  content  with  any  thing  in  the 
world,  so  that  she  might  but  live  with  him. 
Nay,  she  who  has  never  learned  to  wait  upon 
herself,  would  almost  do  without  a  servant, 
so  self-denying,  so  devoted  is  her  love. 

Thus  the  two  hopeful  parties  reason,  and 
should  a  parent  or  a  friend  advise  delay,  the 
simple  fact  of  their  having  been  engaged, 
having  expected  to  be  married,  and  having 
made  up  their  minds,  appear  to  furnish  suffi- 
cient arguments  why  they  should  proceed  in 
their  career  of  rashness  and  of  folly.  Parents 
who  are  kindly  disposed,  will  hardly  see 
their  children  rush  upon  absolute  want  at 
the  commencement  of  their  married  life. 
The  mother  therefore  pleads,  the  father  cal- 
culates, and  by  deferring  some  of  his  own 
payments,  or  by  borrowing  from  a  friend,  he 
is  enabled  to  spare  a  little  more  than  was  at 
first  promised,  though  only  as  a  loan. 

And  how  is  this  small  additional  sum  too 
frequently  appropriated  ?  To  the  purchase 
of  luxuries  which  the  parents  of  the  newly 
married  pair  waited  ten  or  twenty  years  be- 
fore they  thought  of  indulging  themselves 
with ;  and  those  who  have  tried  every  expe- 
dient, and  drained  every  creditable  source, 
to  gratify  the  wishes  of  their  imprudent  chil- 


THOUGHTS  BEFORE  MARRIAGE. 


dren,  have  to  contemplate  the  heart-sicken- 

j  ing  spectacle  of  beholding  them  begin  the 

1  world  in  a  style  superior  to  that  which  their 

own  industry  and   exertion,   persevered   in 

through  half  a   lifetime,  has  alone  enabled 

them  to  attain. 

Now,  though  the  delicate  young  lady  may 
think  she  has  little  to  do  with  these  things, 
the  honest-hearted  Englishwoman,  especially 
the  practical  Christian,  will  find  that  it  be- 
longs  peculiarly  to  her  province  to  see  that 
just  and  right  principles  are  made  the  foun- 
dation of,  her  character  as  the  mistress  of  a 
hoase  ;  and  in  order  to  carry  out  these  prin- 
ciples so  as  to  make  them  effectual  in  their 
operation  upon  her  fellow-beings,  and  accept- 
able in  the  sight  of  God,  she  must  begin  in 
time,  and  while  the  choice  remains  to  her,  to 
practise  self-denial,  even  in  that  act  which  is 
most  intimately  connected  with  her  present 
and  future  happiness. 

If  the  attention  to  economy,  and  the  right 
feeling  with  regard  to  integrity,  which  I  have 
so  earnestly  recommended  in  the  "  Women," 
and  the  "  Daughters  of  England,"  have  been 
studied  in  early  youth,  she  will  need  no  cau- 
tion on  the  subject  of  delaying  her  marriage 
until  prudence  shall  point  out  the  proper  time 
for  her  settlement  in  life.  She  will  know  a 
holier,  deeper  kind  of  love  than  that  which 
would  plunge  the  object  of  it  in  irremediable 
difficulties  for  her  sake  ;  and  though  he  may 
be  inexperienced  and  imprudent,  she  will  feel 
it  a  sacred  trust,  to  have  committed  to  her 
the  care  of  his  character  and  circumstances 
in  these  important  and  momentous  concerns. 

Serious  and  right  views  on  subjects  of 
this  nature,  are  so  intimately  connected  with 
the  reality  of  the  Christian  character,  that  it 
is  difficult  to  imagine  how  a  high  profession 
of  religion  can  exist  in  connection  with  the 
kind  of  wilful  and  selfish  imprudence  above 
described.  One  thing,  however,  is  certain, 
that  let  a  woman's  religious  profession  be 
what  it  may,  if  she  be  rash  and  inconsiderate 
on  the  subject  of  marriage,  consulting  only 
her  own  gratification,  and  mistaking  mere 
fondness  for  deep  and  enduring  affection,  she 
has  need  to  go  back  to  the  school  of  mental 


discipline,  in  which  she  is  yet  but  a  novice ; 
and  instead  of  taking  upon  herself  the  honor- 
able title  of  wife,  to  set  in  humility  and  self- 
abasement  in  the  lowest  seat,  seeking  those 
essential  endowments  of  mind  and  <jf  heart, 
without  which,  the  blessing  of  her  heavenly 
Father  must  be  expected  in  vain. 

Above  all  other  considerations  then,  as  the 
bridal  day  draws  near,  this  thought  will  sug- 
gest itself  to  the  serious  and  enlightened 
mind— What  am  I  seeking  in  the  great 
change  lam  about  to  make?  Am  I  seek- 
ing  an  escape  from  duty  to  enjoyment,  from 
restraint  to  indulgence,  from  wholesome  dis- 
cipline to  perfect  ease  ? 

Let  us  hope  that  these  questions  may  be 
answered  satisfactorily,  and  that  the  young 
woman  now  about  to  take  upon  herself  the 
charge  of  new  duties,  has  thoroughly  weigh- 
ed the  responsibility  these  duties  will  bring 
along  with  them ;  and  that  in  an  humble 
and  prayerful  spirit  she  is  inquiring,  in  what 
way  she  may  conduct  herself,  so  that  all  the 
members  of  her  household  shall  be  united 
as  a  Christian  family,  strengthening  and  en- 
couraging each  other  in  the  service  of  the 
Lord. 

In  so  important  an  undertaking,  it  cannot 
be  deemed  presumptuous  to  determine,  with 
the  Divine  blessing,  to  begin  with  a  high 
standard  of  moral  excellence.  Whatever 
our  standard  is,  we  never  rise  above  it ; 
and  so  great  are  the  miscalculations  usually 
made  in  a  prospective  view  of  married  life, 
that  one  half  at  least  of  its  trials,  tempta- 
tions, and  hindrances  to  spiritual  advance- 
ment are  entirely  overlooked.  Besides  which, 
so  much  of  the  moral  and  religious  charac- 
ter of  a  household  depends  upon  the  female 
who  controls  its  domestic  regulations,  that 
the  woman  who  should  rush  heedlessly  into 
this  situation,  expecting  to  find  it  easier  to 
act  conscientiously  than  she  had  ever  done 
before,  would  most  likely  jpe  punished  for 
iier  presumption  by  discovering,  when  it  was 
too  late,  that  instead  of  religious  helps  on 
every  hand,  she  was  in  reality  plunged  into 
new  difficulties,  and  placed  in  the  midst  of 
lindrances  to  her  spiritual  improvement, 


11 


THE  WIVES  OF  ENGLAND. 


greater  and  more  appalling  than  it  had  ever 
entered  into  her  imagination  to  conceive. 

But  still  there  is  no  need  to  be  cast  down 
even  while  suffering  under  the  natural  con- 
sequences of  this  fearful  mistake,  for  He  who 
has  said  commit  thy  way  unto  the  Lord,  will 
assuredly  be  near  in  the  time  of  trouble,  when 
the  child  of  sorrow,  sincerely  repenting  of 
her  blindness  and  her  folly,  shall  meekly 
and  fervently  implore  his  promised  aid.  She 
will  then  have  learned  to  feel,  that  let  her 
confidence  in  the  companion  of  her  choice 
be  what  it  may  ;  let  him  be  to  her  as  the  fa- 
ther she  has  forsaken,  the  brothers  she  has 
left,  and  the  friends  whose  sweet  fellowship 
she  will  never  more  enjoy  ;  there  will  still  be 
trials  in  her  lot,  in  which  he  cannot  partici- 
pate, and  depths  in  her  soul  which  he  can- 
not fathom.  He  may  take  her  to  his  bosom 
as  the  shepherd  takes  the  lamb ;  but  the 
green  pastures  and  the  refreshing  dew  will 
not  be  hj|  t^give.  He  may  guard  her  safe- 
ty as  the  soroier  guards  the  camp ;  but  her 
enemies  may  be  too  subtle  for  his  eye,  and 
too  powerful  for  his  arm.  He  may  be  to  her 
as  the  morning  to  the  opening  flower ;  but 
the  sun  which  gives  that  morning  all  its  light, 
will  be  high  in  the  heavens,  and  if  he  shines 
not,  there  will  be  no  real  brightness  in  her 
day.  And  all  this  insufficiency  may  still  be 
felt  without  a  shadow  being  cast  upon  her 
earthly  love.  Indeed,  we  never  err  more 
fatally,  or  do  greater  injustice  to  the  nature 
and  attributes  both  of  religion  and  of  love, 
than  when  we  blend  them  together,  and  ex- 
pect from  one  what  the  other  only  can  be- 
stow. If  love  sometimes  assists  us  by  ren- 
dering certain  portions  of  the  path  of  duty 
more  alluring,  in  how  many  instances  does 
it  throw  all  its  allurements  on  the  opposite 
side ;  and  in  such  cases,  how  hard  it  is  that 
religion  should  be  charged  with  the  sad  con- 
sequences which  are  liable  to  follow ! 

I  speak  not  here  of  love  as  what  it  might 
be,  but  as  what  it  is.  I  speak  not  of  that  holy 
and  seraphic  ardor,  which  a  guardian  angel 
might  be  supposed  to  feel  for  the  welfare  of 
the  being  whose  earthly  course  it  watched 
with  unceasing  care ;  nor  yet  of  that  pure 


sentiment,  scarcely  less  earthly  in  its  ten- 
dency, the  chastened  and  subordinate  attach- 
ment of  a  redeemed  and  regenerated  soul ; 
I  speak  of  love  as  a  fitful  and  capricious 
passion,  asserting  unreasonable  mastery  over 
the  human  mind,  rejecting  all  control,  mixing 
itself  with  all  motives,  assuming  all  forms  so 
as  to  work  out  its  own  purposes,  and  never 
failing  to  promise  an  earthly  paradise  to  its 
blind  followers.. 

It  is  of  such  love,  I  repeat,  that  it  must  be 
kept  apart  from  that  great  work  which  reK- 
gion  has  to  do  alone,  because  the  strivings 
of  the  spirit  in  its  religious  exercises  can  only 
be  fully  known  and  appreciated  by  Him  who 
was  in  all  points  tempted  as  we  are ;  and 
because  these  groanings,  which  cannot  be 
uttered  to  any  human  ear,  are  mercifully 
listened  to  by  Him  who  is  touched  writh  a 
feeling  of  our  infirmities. 

It  is  highly  important,  therefore,  that  the 
woman  who  ventures  to  become  a  wife, 
should  not  be  leaning  upon  the  frail  reed 
of  human  love  for  her  support  Indeed,  it 
is  more  than  probable  that  her  husband  will 
himself  require  assistance ;  and,  excellent  M 
he  may  have  hitherto  appeared  to  herself 
and  others,  it  is  equally  probable  that  on  a 
nearer  inspection  there  will  be  found  in  his 
religious  character  defects  and  inconsisten- 
cies, which  will  present  insuperable  obstacles 
in  the  way  of  her  whose  dependence  has  been 
solely  upon  him.  If,  however,  her  depend- 
ence has  been  rightly  placed  upon  a  higher 
foundation  than  that  of  human  excellence 
or  human  love,  these  defects  of  character 
will  neither  hinder  nor  discourage  her.  To 
work  out  her  own  salvation  with  fear  and 
trembling,  will  be  the  great  object  of  her  life ; 
and  while  engaged  with  all  her  energies  in 
this  first  duty,  she  will  be  more  occupied  with 
anxiety  to  draw  others  along  with  her,  than 
with  disappointment  at  their  being  less  per- 
fect than  she  had  imagined  them. 

As  we  must  all  die  alone,  so  must  we  live 
in  our  spiritual  experience. 

"  Not  even  the  tenderest  heart,  nnd  next  onr  own, 
Knows  half  the  reasons  why  we  smile  or  sigh. 


THE  FIRST  YEAR  OF  MARRIED  LIFE. 


Each  in  his  hidden  sphere  of  joy  or  wo 
Our  hermit  spirits  dwell,  and  range  apart ; 
Our  eyes  see  all  around  in  gloom  or  glow, 
Hues  of  their  own,  fresh  borrowed  from  the  heart." 

Human  sympathy  may  do  much  to  com- 
fort,  human  advice  to  guide,  and  human  ex- 
ample  to  encourage ;  but  whether  married  or 
single,  whether  associated  with  others,  or 
separate  and  alone;  we  must  all  bear  our 
own  burdens,  perform  our  own  duties,  an- 
swer  to  our  own  consciences,  reap  our  own 
rewards,  and  receive  our  own  sentence  at  the 
bar  of  eternal  judgment 

If  this  be  an  awful,  and  in  some  respects 
a  gloomy  thought,  in  others  it  is  most  con- 
soling ;  for  we  need  in  reality  but  one  Friend 
in  our  religious  experience.  All  others  are 
liable  to  fail  us  in  the  hour  of  need,  and  at 
best  they  can  do  little  for  us.  But  with  this 
Friend  on  our  side,  no  one  can  hurt  or  hinder 
us.  Under  his  protection,  whatever  wounds 
we  receive  from  any  mortal  foe,  our  immor- 
tal nature  will  remain  uninjured.  This 
Friend  then  is  all-sufficient,  and,  blessed  be 
his  holy  name,  he  ever  lueth  to  make  interces- 
sion for  us. 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE  FIRST  YEAR  OF  MARRIED  LIFE. 

ONE  great  fault  which  the  writer  of  these 
pages  has  already  presumed  to  find  with  fe- 
male education,  as  conducted  in  the  present 
day,  is,  that  it  fails  to  prepare  the  character, 
and  to  form  the  habits,  for  those  after  duties, 
which  are  as  rigorously  exacted,  as  if  the 
whole  training  of  youth  had  been  strictly  in 
accordance  with  the  requirements  of  middle 
life.  The  tone  of  common  conversation,  and 
the  moral  atmosphere  of  general  society,  are 
strongly  tinctured  with  the  same  fault — a 
tendency  to  encourage  thoughts  and  feelings, 
wholly  at  variance  with  the  line  of  conduct 
pointed  out  by  religion,  and  even  by  common 
sense,  as  that  which  is  most  likely  to  be  con- 
ducive to  ultimate  happiness. 

But  in  no  other  circumstance  of  life  is  this 


want  of  prospective  discipline  at  once  so  ob- 
vious, and  so  lamentable,  as  in  the  whole 
progress  of  that  system  of  self-recommenda- 
tion which  men  call  courtship,  and  which 
unquestionably  deserves  that  name,  if  to  win 
the  partial  favor  of  an  inexperienced,  and 
perhaps  a  vain  woman,  be  the  only  object 
they  have  in  view.  It  is  true,  that  the  man 
who  wishes  to  gain  the  affections  of  a  woman, 
must  first  endeavor  to  render  himself  agreea- 
ble to  her;  but  all  I  would  ask  is,  that  while 
endeavoring  to  gain  her  love,  he  should  at 
the  same  time  take  some  pains  to  make  her 
worthy  of  his  own,  by  treating  her  at  least 
with  the  faithfulness  and  sincerity  of  a  friend. 
Nor  need  he  fear  that  he  shall  be  a  loser  in 
the  end  by  this  mode  of  treatment,  for  how 
much  greater  is  the  flattery  of  being  loved  in 
spite  of  our  faults,  than  of  being  supposed  to 
have  none ! 

If  men  would,  then,  in  common  honesty, 
state  what  points  they  object  to  in4he  woman 
they  admire,  and  what  they  really  do  require 
in  a  wife,  they  would  not  only  find  their  in- 
fluence, during  the  season  of  courtship,  pro- 
ductive of  the  most  beneficial  consequences, 
but  they  would  themselves  escape  a  world  of 
disappointment  afterwards,  while  they  would 
save  the  object  of  their  affections  all  that  as- 
tonishment, and  wounded  feeling,  which  nat- 
urally arise  out  of  finding  herself  convicted 
of  innumerable  faults  which  were  never  so 
much  as  hinted  at  before. 

Instead  of  the  candid  and  generous  treat- 
ment here  recommended,  how  often  is  the 
progress  of  courtship  no  better  than  a  system 
of  fulsome  adulation,  and  consequently  of 
falsehood,  carried  on  exactly  as  if  marriage 
was  'indeed  the  end,  instead  of  the  beginning, 
of  their  mutual  existence.  And  thus  the 
affair  goes  on — nay,  it  becomes  even  worse, 
until  the  near  approach  of  that  day  which  is 
to  make  them  one ;  for  friends  and  relatives 
now  take  the  same  tone,  and  the  bride  elect 
is  set  apart  from  all  domestic  discipline,  the 
recipient  of  flattering  attentions,  the  object  of 
universal  interest,  and  the  centre  towards 
which  all  calculations  and  all  expressions  of 
kindness  equally  tend. 


16 


THE  WIVES  OF  ENGLAND. 


Persons  sometimes  appear  least  selfish 
when  their  self-love  is  fully  and  freely  grati- 
fied ;  because  they  have  then  nothing  left  to 
require  or  to  complain  of.  Thus  the  bride 
elect  always  appears  amiable,  because  every- 
body waits  upon  her,  everybody  flatters  her, 
and  everybody  promotes  the  gratification  of 
her  wishes  to  the  utmost  of  their  power. 
There  is  now  no  self-denial,  no  giving  place 
to  others,  no  privation  of  the  expected  means 
of  enjoy ment— or,  to  sum  up  all  in  one  word, 
there  is  no  neglect  to  try  her  selfishness,  or 
put  her  meekness  to  the  test  How  should 
she  be  otherwise  than  amiable  1 

In  this  manner  time  passes  on,  self  being 
made  daily  more  and  more  the  object  of  uni- 
versal attention,  until  at  last,  the  bride  be- 
comes personally  almost  an  idol,  so  lavish  is 
the  expenditure  bestowed  upon  her  now, 
compared  with  what  it  has  ever  been  before ; 
so  attractive,  so  becoming,  is  every  ornament 
she  wears ;  and  so.  lively  is  the  interest,  so 
profound  the  respect,  with  which  she  is 
treated  on  that  eventful  day,  which  dawns 
upon  her  departure  from  her  parents'  home. 

Far  be  it  from  me  to  attempt  to  divest  that 
day  of  its  solemn  and  important  character, 
or  to  lower  the  tone  of  feeling  with  which  it 
ought  to  be  regarded ;  but  as  a  lover  of  truth, 
and  a  somewhat  studious  observer  of  the 
days  which  follow,  I  own  I  should  like  to  see 
the  preparation  of  a  bride  consist  more  of 
mental  discipline  than  of  personal  adorn- 
ment— more  of  the  resources  of  a  well-stored 
understanding,  already  thoroughly  informed 
on  the  subjects  of  relative  position  and  prac- 
tical duty ;  and  with  these,  the  still  higher  or- 
nament of  a  chastened  spirit,  already  imbued 
with  a  lively  consciousness  of  the  deep  re- 
sponsibilities devolving  upon  a  married  wo- 
man. After  such  a  preparation,  there  would 
be  no  unwelcome  truth  to  reveal,  no  unex- 
pected reproof  to  endure.  To  fall  short  of 
the  high  standard  of  excellence  in  almost 
every  act,  and  not  always  to  be  graciously 
forgiven,  would  be  a  matter  of  calculation, 
which,  with  true  Christian  meekness,  she 
would  be  prepared  to  meet;  while  to  set 
aside  all  selfish  considerations,  and  to  look 


almost  exclusively  to  the  happiness  of  others 
for  her  own,  would  already  have  become  so 
habitual  as  to  require  no  new  effort  to  carry 
out  through  the  intercourse  of  daily  life. 

Happy,  and  wise  as  well  as  happy,  would 
that  man  be,  who  should  make  himself  con- 
tent to  wait  for  the  dawning  of  his  bridal  day, 
until  the  woman  of  his  choice  should  have 
been  thus  prepared.  But  instead  of  this, 
man  eagerly  secures  his  prjze  ;  and,  like  the 
training  of  a  snared  bird,  that  discipline  must 
all  come  afterwards,  which  is  to  end  in  do- 
mestic harmony,  or  domestic  strife. 

But  let  us  turn  the  page,  and  after  wel- 
coming home  the  happy  couple  from  the 
wedding  tour,  let  us  venture  to  whisper  into 
the  ear  of  the  bride  a  few  sage  words,  from 
which,  whether  properly  prepared  or  not,  she 
may  possibly,  from  the  simple  fact  of  her  in- 
experience, be  able  to  gather  something  for 
her  future  good. 

If  ever,  in  the  course  of  human  life,  inde- 
cision may  be  accounted  a  merit  rather  than 
a  defect,  it  is  so  in  the  conduct  of  a  young 
and  newly  married  woman.  While  every 
circumstance  around  her  is  new  and  untried, 
the  voice  of  prudence  dictates  caution  before 
any  important  step  is  taken,  either  with  re- 
gard to  the  formation  of  intimacies,  or  the 
general  style  and  order  of  living.  A  warm- 
hearted, dependent,  and  affectionate  young 
woman,  ardently  attached  to  her  husband, 
will  be  predisposed  to  lean  upon  the  kindness 
of  his  relatives,  and  even  to  enter  rashly  into 
the  most  intimate  and  familiar  intercourse 
with  them.  But  even  this  amiable  impulse 
should  be  checked  by  the  remembrance,  that 
in  all  such  intimacies,  it  is  much  more  diffi- 
cult to  recede  than  to  advance,  and  that  when 
familiar  intimacy  is  once  established,  there  is 
no  such  thing  as  drawing  back  without  per- 
sonal affront  It  will  happen,  too,  unless  the 
husband's  relatives  are  something  more  than 
human,  that  among  themselves  there  will  not 
be  perfect  unanimity  of  feeling.  They  will 
probably  be  divided  into  little  parties,  in  which 
individuals  on  one  side  will  look  with  partial 
or  censorious  eyes  upon  the  sayings  and  do- 
ings of  those  on  the  other.  Such  partial 


THE  FIRST  YEAR  OF  MARRIED  LIFE. 


17 


views,  when  they  give  a  tone  to  general  con- 
versation, are  very  infectious,  and  a  sensitive 
mind  niuch  interested,  and  keenly  alive  to 
mpressions  from  such  a  quarter,  will  be  but 
too  likely  to  become  suddenly  and  powerfully 
biased  by  the  same  prejudices  which  pervade 
the  circle  into  which  the  youthful  bride  is 
introduced. 

Nothing,  however,  can  be  more  injudicious 
than  for  her  to  take  part  in  these  family 
matters.  If  possible,  she  ought  to  wait  and 
see  for  herself,  before  her  opinion  is  formed 
upon  any  of  the  subjects  in  question.  And 
this,  by  great  care,  may  be  done  without  any 
violation  of  that  respectful  behavior  which 
she  ought  to  lay  down  for  herself  as  a  rule, 
in  associating  with  her  husband's  relatives, 
and  from  which  she  ought  never  to  deviate, 
let  her  opinion  of  their  merits  and  attractions 
be  what  it  may. 

It  is  sometimes  supposed  that  the  main- 
tenance of  personal  dignity  is  incompatible 
with  this  exercise  of  respect  towards  others. 
But  on  no  subject  do  young  people  make 
greater  mistakes,  than  on   that   of  dignity. 
True  dignity  must  always  be  founded  upon 
a  right  understanding  of  our  own  position  in 
society;  for  the  presumption  which  would 
assume  what  properly  belongs  to  another, 
and  what  in  no  way  appertains  to  the  indi- 
vidual who  makes  this  lamentable  mistake, 
is  as  far  removed  from  dignity,  as  from  right 
feeling  and  common  sense.     As  a  wife,  then, 
a  woman  may  be  always  dignified,  though, 
simply  as  a  woman,  she  may  at  the  same 
time  be   humble,  and   as   a  Christian  self- 
abased.   As  a  wife — as  the  chosen  companion 
of  an  honorable  and  upright  man,  it  is  her 
duty  so  to  regulate  her  whole  conduct,  that 
she  shall  neither  offend  others,  nor  bring  of- 
fence upon  herself;  and  this  is  never  more 
effectually  done,  than  by  standing  aloof  from 
family  disputes,  and  taking  no  part  either  in 
the   partialities   or  the  prejudices  of  those 
with  whom  she  is  associated. 
i      It  is  perfectly  consistent  with  personal  dig- 
nity, that  a  wife  should  in  all  respects  be  the 
mistress  of  her  own  house.    If,  therefore,  the 
husband's  relations  have  been  accustomed  t 


ake  part  in  his  domestic  concern*,  it  irf  high- 
y  important  that  they  should  do  so  no  long- 
er. Correct-minded  persons  will  need  no 
hint  of  this  kind  from  the  wife  herself-  Such 
persons  will  be  sufficiently  aware,  that  the 
nterior  of  her  establishment  must  bo  kept 
sacred  to  her  alone ;  and  that,  while  the 
reatest  freedom  is  maintained  both  in  ask- 
ng  and  in  granting  favors,  there  must  be  no 
ntrusion  on  their  part  into  the  mysteries  of 
the  kitchen,  the  store-room,  or  the  pantry, 
without  an  invitation  from  the  mistress,  ei- 
her  expressed  or  implied. 

Should  there  be  wanting  in  the  husband's 
relatives  this  peculiar  kind  of  delicacy  of  feei- 
ng, it  will  be  necessary  to  devise  some  plan 
calculated  not  to  offend,  by  which  they  may 
be  made  to  understand  that  you  do  not  wish 
thetn,  in  your  own  house,  entirely  to  share  all 
things  in  common ;  for  let  the  degree  of  kind- 
ness on  both  sides  be  what  it  may,  your  edu- 
cation and  theirs  will  in  all  probability  have 
been  so  different,  that  circumstances  must 
necessarily  arise,  calculated  to  draw  forth  re- 
marks which  cannot  always  be  acceptable, 
and  it  is  therefore  your  wisest  plan,  to  draw 
the  line  of  demarcation  on  the  side  of  safety 
Nor  is  it  necessary  that  in  thus  asserting 
your  rights,  suspicion  should  be  a\vakene< 
of  any  want  of  kindly  feeling.  To  obviate  al 
chance  of  this,  it  would  be  wise  to  take  ad- 
vantage of  the  advice  of  your  husband's  rela 
tives  in  all  cases  where  they  are  willing  to 
give,  and  where  you  are  prepared  to  adop 
it ;  and,  at  the  same  time,  to  be  careful  tha 
an  excess  of  kindness  should  accompany 
that  uncompromising  defence  of  your  own 
dignity,  which  every  woman  has  a  right  to 
make.  No  room  will  then  be  left  for  com 
plajnt,  and  you  will  enjoy  the  satisfaction  of 
showing  your  husband  how  highly  you  es 
teem  his  relatives,  and  how  much  you  ar 
prepared  to  serve  and  to  oblige  them  for  hi 
sake. 

It  is  a  painful  fact,  and  one  of  vulgar  noto 
riety,  that  all  eyes  are  fixed  upon  a  bride 
some  to  see  how  she  is  dressed,  others  to  ob 
serve  how  she  behaves,  and  not  a  few  to  as 
certain,  as  far  as  they  are  able,  whether  sh 


18 


THE  WIVES  OF  EMil.ANP. 


has  come  from  a  respectable  home,  or,  in 
other  words,  whether  she  has  raised  herself 
in  worldly  circumstances  by  the  connection 
she  has  made.  This  exercise  of  idle  and 
impertinent  curiosity  might  appear  a  little  too 
contemptible  to  be  met  with  any  kind  of  con- 
sideration, were  it  not  the  interest  of  a  mar- 
ried woman  to  impress  her  new  relations 
with  an  idea  of  her  previous  importance,  and 
her  unquestionable  claims  to  respect  Even 
servants  are  much  influenced  by  this  impres- 
sion, and  it  was,  therefore,  a  prudent  plan 
adopted  by  our  grandmothers,  and  still  kept 
up  in  some  parts  of  England,  for  the  bride  to 
go  well  appointed  to  her  husband's  home, 
well  supplied  with  a  store  of  good  household 
linen,  and  with  abundance  of  such  clothes  as 
are  not  likely  to  become  useless  by  being  un- 
fashionable. These  things  are  accustomed 
to  be  discussed  among  servants  and  depend- 
ants. From  one  little  circle  of  kitchen  or 
laundry  gossip,  they  extend  to  another  ;  and 
well  if  they  do  not  find  their  way  through 
the  same  channel  to  the  parlor  fireside  ;  well, 
if  the  humiliating  remark  is  never  made 
there,  that  the  bride  left  every  thing  of  im- 
portance to  be  purchased  with  her  husband's 
money. 

Although  it  may  seem  rather  an  ungra- 
cious sort  of  warning,  thus  to  prepare  the 
young  bride  for  a  kind  of  critical  inspection 
scarcely  consistent  with  kind  and  generous 
feeling,  it  is  nevertheless  necessary  in  such  a 
world  as  ours,  to  calculate  upon  much  which 
the  external  aspect  of  society  would  scarcely 
lead  us  to  expect  Yet  we  must  not  for  this 
reason  forget  the  many  instances  in  which  the 
most  sincere  and  cordial  kindness  is  called 
forth  on  the  part  of  the  husband's  relatives, 
when  they  welcome  to  her  new  home  one 
who  is  literally  received  into  the  bosom  of 
their  family,  and  cherished  as  a  lamb  of  their 
own  fold. 

In  the  majority  of  cases,  too,  it  happens 
that  the  bride  is  no  stranger,  that  her  family 
and  her  husband's  have  been  in  habits  of  in- 
timacy, and  that  the  admission  of  this  new 
link  is  but  the  strengthening  of  that  intimacy 
into  more  enduring  and  affectionate  union  on 


both  sides.  In  both  these  cases,  the  bride 
has  much  to  console  and  to  support  her  in 
the  duties  she  has  undertaken  ;  and  a  young 
heart  can  scarcely  fail  to  feel  impressed  with 
gratitude  for  this  voluntary  offering  of  a  new 
and  lasting  home,  with  all  its  kindred  as- 
sociations of  parents,  brothers,  sisters,  and 
friends. 

If,  on  the  one  hand,  it  is  not  only  lawful 
but  expedient  to  endeavor  to  maintain  that 
dignity  which  properly  belongs  to  a  married 
woman ;  on  the  other,  it  is  necessary  to  act 
with  the  most  scrupulous  regard  to  that  mi- 
nute and  delicate  line,  beyond  which  dignity 
degenerates  into  a  mere  assumption  of  im- 
portance. It  is  unquestionably  an  honorable 
distinction  to  be  the  chosen  companion  of  an 
enlightened  and  good  man ;  but  we  must  not 
forget,  that  nature  never  yet  formed  any  wo- 
man too  destitute  of  attractions,  or  sent  her 
forth  into  the  world  too  meanly  endowed,  for 
her  to  be  chosen  as  a  wife.  The  dignity  de- 
rived from  marriage  can,  therefore,  only  be 
a  reflected  one  ;  and  has  nothing  whatever 
to  do  with  the  merits  or  the  capabilities  of 
the  married  woman. 

I  once  lieard  a  newly  married  lady  com- 
plaining in  company  with  great  vehemence 
of  something  which  had  been  said  to  her  by 
a  single  sister,  and  concluding  many  of  her 
sentences  with  this  remark — "All  that  Miss 
B —  said  was,  I  dare  say,  sensible  enough ; 
but  It  you  fcnoir,  am  married" — as  if  that 
alone  had  been  sufficient  to  give  weight  to 
the  scale  in  which  good  sense,  and  almost 
every  other  good  quality,  appeared  to  be 
wanting. 

In  no  part  of  the  conduct  of  the  bride  will 
keen  eyes  be  more  scrutinizing  than  here. 
The  husband's  relatives  especially  will  be 
ready  to  detect  the  least  assumption  of  supe- 
riority to  themselves.  If,  therefore,  there  has 
been  any  difference  of  rank  or  station  in  fa- 
vor of  the  bride,  she  will  act  most  wisely  as 
regards  herself,  and  most  generously  as  re- 
gards her  husband,  by  keeping  every  sign  or 
evidence  of  her  having  filled  a  more  exalted 
station  entirely  out  of  sight. 

All  her  eccentricities,  too,  must  share  the 


I 


THE  FIRST  YEAR  OF  MARRIED  LIFE. 


19 


same  fate,  at  least,  until  her  new  relations 
shall  have  learned  to  love  her  well  enough  to 
tolerate  them  for  her  sake.  At  first  there 
will  be  no  such  charitable  feeling  extended 
towards  those  peculiarities  of  character  with 
which  they  cannot  sympathize,  perhaps  be- 
cause they  cannot  understand  them.  She 
must  now  be  judged  of  by  a  new  rule.  Sin- 
gularities of  manner,  scarcely  perceived  at 
home,  or  kindly  borne  with  as  a'necessafy 
part  of  individuality,  will  now  appear  not 
only  flaring,  but  inconsistent  and  absurd. 
Faults  of  temper,  too  long,  and  perhaps  too 
leniently  indulged,  will  now  be  met  with  op- 
position, and  have  the  necessity  of  their  ex- 
istence called  in  question ;  while  all  those 
little  playful  sallies  of  local  wit  or  humor, 
which  were  wont  to  fill  up  the  blanks  of 
social  life,  may  possibly  be  heard  without  a 
smile,  or  wondered  at  as  unmeaning,  and  in 
bad  taste. 

It  is  unquestionably  the  best  policy  then  for 
a  bride  to  be  in  all  things  the  opposite  of  ec- 
centric. Her  character,  if  she  have  any, 
will  develop  itself  in  time ;  and  nothing  can 
be  gained,  jhough  much  may  be  lost,  by  ex- 
hibiting  its  peculiarities  before  they  are  likely 
to  be  candidly  judged  or  rightly  understood. 
In  being  unobtrusive,  quiet,  impartially  polite 
to  all,  and  willing  to  bend  to  circumstances, 
consists  the  great  virtue  of  a  bride ;  and 
though  to  sink,  even  for  a  short  time,  into  an 
apparent  nonentity,  may  be  a  little  humbling 
to  one  who  has  occupied  a  distinguished  place 
amongst  her  former  friends,  the  prudent  wo- 
man will  be  abundantly  repaid,  by  being  thus 
enabled  to  make  her  own  observations  upon 
the  society  and  the  circumstances  around 
her,  to  see  what  pleasant  paths  she  may  with 
safety  pursue,  or  what  opportunities  are  likely 
to  open  for  a  fuller  development  of  her  pow- 
ers, either  natural  or  acquired. 

With  regard  to  the  duties  of  charity,  and 
indeed  of  kindness  in  general,  the  cordial  re- 
ception a  bride  usually  meets  with,  the  inter- 
est she  has  so  recently  excited,  and  the  fa- 
vorable aspect  worn  by  every  thing  around 
her,  naturally  inspire  in  her  mind  so  much 
that  is  agreeable  in  return,  and  awaken  on 


her  part  so  many  feelings  of  kindness  and 
good-will,  that  she  becomes  more  than  usu- 
ally anxious  to  manifest  her  benevolence, 
even  towards  persons,  who,  under  lees  favor- 
able circumstances,  would  have  excited  no 
interest  whatever. 

Those  who  make  it  their  business  to  check 
such  feelings,  have  a  hard  and  ungrateful 
duty  to  perform  ;  and  yet,  where  the  founda- 
tion of  such  acts  of  benevolence  as  are  thus 
performed,  is  feeling  only,  the  danger  is,  that 
a  system  of  behavior  will  be  rashly  adopted, 
which  the  emotions  of  after  life  will  not  be 
sufficiently  powerful  consistently  to  maintain; 
and  the  consequences  of  such  falling  off  will 
necessarily  be,  that  the  sorrowful  or  the  indi- 
gent will  have  to  endure  a  degree  of  disap- 
pointment or  neglect,  for  which  they  were 
but  little  prepared. 

There  can  be  neither  injustice  nor  unkind- 
ness  in  not  listening,  in  the  first  instance,  to 
claims  which  you  are  not  able  to  satisfy ;  but 
there  is  cruelty — absolute  cruelty,  in  with- 
drawing your  attention  and  interest  from  per- 
sons who  have  learned  to  look  to  you  for 
sympathy  and  cordial  feoling,  and  in  refusing 
your  assistance  to  those  who  have  learned  to 
look  to  you  for  support.  As  each  person 
can  only  satisfy  a  certain  number  of  claims, 
it  follows  as  a  necessary  consequence,  that 
by  engaging  at  once  in  too  many,  some,  or 
perhaps  all,  must  in  the  end  be  suffered  to 
fall  into  neglect 

The  first  year  of  married  life  may  justly  be 
regarded  as  not  likely  to  present  one  half  of 
the  claims  upon  individual  or  household  char- 
ity which  will  follow  in  the  second  and  the 
third  ;  would  it  not,  therefore,  be  wise  to  lay 
by  against  a  future  day,  a  little  fund  or  store 
for  this  purpose!  and  by  always  keeping 
something  in  hand  to  be  appropriated  to 
charitable  uses  alone,  there  can  be  no  sur- 
prise when  the  payment  of  a  bill  is  due,  to 
find  that  part  of  the  amount  has  already  been 
given  to  relieve  a  family  in  distress,  and  that 
the  payment  of  the  whole  must  therefore  be 
deferred.  All  such  miscalculations,  and  falling 
short  of  funds  as  these,  cannot  be  too  scru- 
pulously guarded  against;  for  not  only  is 


20 


THE   WIVES  OF  ENGLAND. 


their  influence  bad,  as  they  operate  against 
the  prompt  discharge  of  pecuniary  debts,  but 
their  tendency  is  equally  to  be  feared,  as  they 
often  warp  the  mind  from  its  benevolent  and 
kindly  purposes,  by  a  frequent  repetition  of 
regret  that  sums  have  been  thoughtlessly  ex- 
pended in  charity,  which  ought  to  have  been 
otherwise  employed. 

And  here  I  would  observe,  that  the  less 
we  are  induced  by  circumstances  to  grudge 
our  past  charities,  or  regret  our  past  kind- 
ness, the  better  it  is  for  our  own  hearts,  and 
for  the  general  tone  and  temper  of  our  minds. 
Indeed,  where  acts  of  charity  are  performed 
with  right  motives,  not  for  the  applause  of 
men,  or  even  for  the  satisfaction  of  having 
done  a  good  deed,  or  brought  about  a  good 
end  ;  but  simply  from  a  love  to  God,  and  in 
obedience  to  his  commands,  there  can  be  no 
such  thing  as  looking  back  with  regret  to  the 
act  itself,  whatever  its  consequences  may  be. 
He  who  has  commanded  us  to  visit  the  fa- 
therless and  the  widow  in  their  affliction,  has 
not  given  us  more  than  human  penetration  to 
judge  of  the  exact  amount  of  their  necessi- 
ties, or  their  deserts.  If,  therefore,  we  have 
erred,  it  has  only  been  in  the  proportion,  or 
the  application,  of  our  bestowments.  The 
act  of  giving  remains  as  much  a  duty  as 
ever,  and  to  her  who  has  learned  to  look 
upon  the  good  things  of  this  life  as  only  lent 
to  her  for  a  brief  season  of  trial,  this  sacred 
duty  will  be  found  connected  with  the  highest 
enjoyments'  of  which,  in  our  present  state  of 
existence,  we  are  capable. 

But  in  order  to  enjoy  the  luxury  of  giving 
with  the  greatest  zest,  it  is  highly  important 
that  we  attend  to  the  strict  rules  of  economy. 
I  have  already  written  much,  and  would  that 
others  would  write  more,  and  better,  on  this 
subject;  for  until  we  can  separate  in  the 
minds  of  young  women  their  favorite  idea 
of  lavish  expenditure,  from  that  of  generos- 
ity, there  is  little  good  to  be  expected  from 
the  Wives  of  England,  and  little  happiness 
to  be  looked  for  in  their  far-famed  homes. 
Would  that  philanthropists  of  every  descrip- 
tion then,  would  give  their  attention  to  this 
subject  in  detail,  and  lay  it  before  the  public 


in  a  manner  that  would  render  it  intelligible 
to  the  female  part  of  the  community  ;  while, 
communicated  through  them,  it  would  find 
its  way  to  every  house  and  every  cottage 
in  our  land — not  that  economy  which  would 
lead  to  a  useless  hoarding  up  of  money,  but  to 
the  glorious  object  of  effecting  the  greatest  pos- 
sible amount  of  good  with  the  smallest  means. 
.  Until  this  most  refined  and  delicate  art  is 
made  systematically  a  part  of  female  educa- 
tion, we  must  look  to  that  stern  teacher  expe- 
rience, to  show  us,  late  in  life,  what  miglit  have 
been  accomplished  by  a  combination  of  econo- 
my with  kindness,  had  we  but  begun  the  study 
of  this  delightful  art  in  time.  We  must  look 
to  the  items  that  have  been  absolutely  wasted, 
in  almost  every  thing  we  have  had  to  do,  for 
want  of  being  acquainted  with  a  better  mode 
of  doing  it ;  and,  adding  these  together,  we 
must  look  to  the  helpless  and  the  destitute, 
and  see  what  an  amount  of  suffering  might 
have  been  relieved  by  our  economy,  if  through 
a  long  lifetime  we  had  turned  every  thing  com- 
mitted to  our  care,  or  granted  for  our  use,  to 
the  best  possible  account  But  we  must  look 
beyond  this.  Yes,  we  must  look  with  blush- 
ing and  confusion  of  face  to  that  want  of 
moral  rectitude  which  rendered  us  worse 
than  ignorant  of  the  mischief  we  were  doing 
— to  that  culpable  and  degrading  apathy — that 
recklessness  of  all  responsibility  with  which  we 
conducted  our  domestic  and  personal  affairs, 
regardless  of  each  item  wasted,  until  the  whole 
became  a  mighty  and  fearful  mass  of  evidence 
against  us,  perpetually  reminding  us,  through 
the  medium  of  our  penurious  charities,  our 
scanty  means,  and  our  apprehensions  of  the 
fearful  reckoning  of  each  coming  day — re- 
minding us  by  these  humiliating  remembran- 
cers of  what  we  have  lost  beyond  all  possi- 
bility of  recovery. 

I  am  not,  however,  one  of  those  who  would 
recommend  the  sacrifice  either  of  comfort  or 
respectability  for  the  sake  of  economy.  A 
certain  air  of  comfort,  a  certain  degree  of  re- 
spectability, regulated  by  the  sphere  in  which 
the  parties  move,  should  never  be  lost  sight 
of  by  the  mistress  of  a  house.  More  espe- 
cially, there  should  be  no  meanness  behind 


THE  FIRST  YEAR  OF  MARRIED  LIFE. 


21 


the  scenes,  to  support  an  unwarrantable  dis- 
play in  public.  There  is  a  moral  degradation 
in  such  meanness  wherever  it  exists ;  and 
those  persons  who  have  habitually  to  hide 
themselves,  or  to  conceal  their  dinner-table, 
when  a  guest  approaches,  must  be  living 
either  above  or  below  the  line  which  strict 
integrity  would  point  out  to  be  observed — 
they  must  either  be  making  a  figure  at  other 
times,  and  in  other  places,  which  they  are 
not  able  consistently  to  support ;  or  they  must 
be  dressing  and  living  beneath  that  standard 
of  respectability  which  properly  belongs  to 
their  character  and  station. 
|  In  order  to  proportion  all  these  matters 
fairly,  the  bride  must  be  content  to  wait  un- 
til time  and  experience  shall  have  brought  to 
light  her  true  position,  and  her  actual  means. 
The  first  year  of  married  life  will  probably 
be  less  expensive  than  the  second,  and  the 
second  less  so  than  the  third.  Her  house- 
hold furniture,  and  her  own  clothing,  being 
good  and  new,  there  can  be  little  wanted  for 
repairs ;  and,  therefore,  in  her  domestic  ek- 
penditure,  as  well  as  in  her  charities,  this 
year  will  afford  no  true  criterion  of  the  claims 
she  must  afterwards  expect 

It  is,  perhaps,  owing  to  this  fallacious  ap- 
pearance in  their  domestic  affairs,  that  so 
many  inexperienced  persons  are  led  on  to 
purchase  first  one  article  of  luxury  or  indul- 
gence, and  then  another,  even  after  their  bet- 
ter judgment  had  dictated  that  such  things 
should  be  done  without ;  and  thus,  because 
they  did  not  find  housekeeping  at  first  so  ex- 
pensive as  they  had  anticipated,  they  have 
launched  out  into  extravagance  which  they 
have  had  bitterly  to  regret  Such  persons  are 
apt  to  say,  "  there  can  be  no  loss  in  furniture, 
each  article  will  always  sell  for  its  full  value — 
there  can  be  no  waste  in  silver,  because  it 
is  easily  got  rid  of  for  the  price  of  its  own 
weight"  But  what  absurdity  is  this !  As 
if,  after  having  made  a  certain  figure  before 
the  world,  and  in  society,  it  was  as  easy  to 
retreat  and  sink  into  a  lower  grade,  as  it  is 
to  sell  a  sofa,  or  a  silver  fork.  Why,  this 
very  act  of  assuming  a  certain  position,  and 
this  very  dread  of  falling  back,  is  what  the 


whole  world  is  striving  about  at  this  very 
hour.  It  is  what  so  many  heads  are  calcu- 
lating upon,  what  so  many  hands  are  work- 
ing out,  and  what  so  many  hearts  are  beat- 
ing for.  Whether  we  look  at  the  wear-and- 
tear  of  mental  and  animal  life  in  our  great 
cites,  our  ships  upon  the  ocean,  our  laborers 
on  the  land,  our  congregated  thousands  pent 
up  in  heated  rooms,  and  our  miners  digging 
in  the  bowels  of  the  earth ;  or  whether  we 
turn  the  page  of  man's  history,  and  looking 
at  the  inner  movements  of  this  great  prin- 
ciple, behold  him  in  his  moments  of  unrest, 
note  down  the  fluttering  of  his  ambitious 
hopes,  the  agony  of  his  suspense,  his  disap- 
pointment or  his  triumph,  it  is  all  the  effect 
of  one  great  pause,  and  that  the  strongest 
and  most  universal  which  prevails  in  highly 
civilized  communities — a  desire  to  keep  ad- 
vancing in  the  scale  of  society,  and  a  dread 
of  falling  back  from  the  position  already  held. 
Let  us  then  at  least  talk  common  sense  ; 
and  in  doing  this,  I  would  advise  the  newly 
married  woman  to  look  at  things  in  general 
as  they  really  are,  not  as  they  might  be.  She 
will  then  see,  that  nothing  is  more  difficult  to 
human  nature,  than  to  come  down  even  one 
step  from  any  height  it  has  attained,  whether 
imaginary  or  real.  If,  therefore,  the  ap- 
pearance a  young  couple  make  on  their  first 
outset  in  life  be  evei  so  little  beyond  their 
means,  so  far  from  their  being  willing  to  re- 
duce their  appearance  or  style  of  living  to  a 
lower  scale,  they  will  ever  afterwards  be  per- 
plexed by  devices,  and  harassed  by  endeav- 
ors, to  maintain  in  all  respects  the  appear- 
ance they  have  so  imprudently  assumed. 
This  perpetual  straitness  and  inadequacy  of 
means  to  effect  the  end  desired,  is  of  itself 
sufficient  to  poison  the  fountain  of  domestic 
concord  at  its  source.  It  is  bad  enough  to  have 
innumerable  wants  created  in  our  own  minds 
which  our  utmost  efforts  are  unequal  to  satis- 
fy ;  but  it  is  worse,  as  many  thousands  can 
attest,  in  addition  to  this,  for  the  husband 
and  the  wife  to  be  perpetually  disputing  at 
their  own  fireside,  about  what  expenses  can 
be  done  without,  and  what  cannot  Yet  all 
these  consequences  follow,  and  worse,  and 


22 


THE  WIVES  OF  ENGLAND. 


more  calamitous  than  tongue  or  pen  can  de- 
scribe, from  the  simple  fact  of  having  begun 
a  new  establishment  on  too  expensive  a  scale. 

It  may  seem  like  a  fanciful  indulgence  of 
morbid  feeling,  but  I  own  my  attention  has 
often  been  arrested  in  the  streets  of  London, 
by  a  spectacle  which  few  ladies  would  stop  to 
contemplate — a  pawnbroker's  shop.  And  I 
have  imagined  I  could  there  trace  the  grad- 
ual fall  from  these  high  beginnings,  in  the 
new  hearth-rug  scarcely  worn,  the  gaudy 
carpet  with  its  roses  scarcely  soiled,  the 
flowery  tea-tray,  and,  worst  of  all,  the  bride's 
white  veil.  What  a  breaking-up,  I  have 
thought,  must  there  have  been  of  some  lit- 
tle establishment,  before  the  dust  of  a  single 
twelvemonth  had  fallen  on  its  hearth ! — 
these  articles  perhaps  disposed  of  to  defray 
the  expenses  of  illness,  or  to  satisfy  the  very 
creditors  of  whom  they  were  obtained  on 
trust 

Now,  though  I  imagine  myself  to  be  ad- 
dressing a  class  of  persons  far  removed  from 
all  liabilities  of  this  kind,  yet,  proportioned  to 
their  higher  respectability,  is  their  greater 
influence  ;  and  just  so  far  as  that  influence  is 
on  the  side  of  prudence  and  economy,  will 
their  example  operate  beneficially  upon  the 
classes  beneath  them. 

It  seems  to  be  the  nature  of  evil  universal- 
ly to  diffuse  itself,  by  rendering  one  wrong 
action  almost  necessary  to  another.  Thug  no 
human  being  can  say,  "  I  will  commit  this 
particular  sin,  and  go  no  further."  Most 
especially  is  this  the  case  with  every  kind 
of  deception,  just  as  one  wilful  deviation 
from  truth  draws  after  it  a  long  train  of  false- 
hood. Every  deviation  from  the  line  of  in- 
tegrity, is  followed  by  the  same  inevitable 
consequences,  and  thus  where  persons  have 
made  up  their  minds  to  exhibit  before  the 
world  a  style  of  dress,  or  a  mode  of  living, 
beyond  what  their  circumstances  are  able 
consistently  to  support,  an  endless  train  of 
meanness,  artifice,  and  practical  falsehood,  is 
almost  sure  to  follow.  How  much  better  is 
it  then,  to  begin  the  world  with  an  honest 
heart  and  a  clear  conscience,  as  regards 
these  points  of  duty,  and  neither  to  carry  on 


behind  the  scenes  a  disgraceful  system  of  ex- 
tracting from  comfort  what  extravagance  de- 
mands, nor  of  exhibiting  at  first  a  transient 
display  of  luxury  or  pomp,  to  be  repented  of 
for  the  remainder  of  life. 

AH  this,  however,  requires  some  self-denial, 
much  principle,  and  much  love.  It  requires 
self-denial,  because  while  almost  all  the 
world  is  progressing  at  this  rate,  to  assume  a 
plainer  and  more  simple  mpde  of  living 
necessarily  brings  with  it  a  suspicion  of 
being  unable  to  live  differently.  It  requires 
principle,  because  temptations  present  them- 
selves on  every  hand  to  purchase  what  we 
wish  for  at  less  than  its  apparent  value ;  and 
it  requires  love,  because  with  true  and  deep 
affection,  the  wife  is  so  bound  up  in  the  inte- 
rests of  her  husband,  that  all  things  become 
light  in  comparison  with  his  temporal  and 
eternal  good.  Love,  therefore,  is  admirably 
calculated  to  lessen  all  privations  arising 
from  a  conscientious  adherence  to  strict  integ- 
rity on  these  points. 

Nothing  shows  more  plainly  the  mistake 
under  which  people  in  general  labor,  with 
regard  to  the  degree  of  mental  and  moral 
capability  requisite  in  a  really  good  wife,  than 
the  common  expression  used  to  describe  a 
merely  well-disposed  and  ignorant  female, 
when  it  is  said  of  her,  that  she  is  "  a  good 
sort  of  body,  and  will  make  an  excellent 
wife."  The  generality  of  men,  and  even 
some  of  the  most  intelligent  amongst  them, 
appear  peculiarly  disposed  to  make  the  expe- 
riment of  marrying  such  women,  as  if  the 
very  fact  of  their  deficiency  in  moral  disci- 
pline, and  intellectual  power,  was  of  itself  a 
recommendation  rather  than  otherwise,  in 
the  mistress  of  a  family;  and  until  women 
shall  really  find  themselves  neglected  by  the 
loftier  sex,  and  actually  consigned  to  oblivion, 
because  they  are  indolent,  selfish,  or  silly,  it 
is  to  be  feared  that  books  may  be  multiplied 
on  this  subject,  and  even  sermons  preached, 
with  little  or  no  effect. 

Still  there  is  surely  something  in  the  deep 
heart  of  woman  capable  of  a  nobler  ambition 
than  that  of  merely  securing  as  a  husband 
the  man  she  most  admires.  To  make  that 


THE  FIRST  YEAR  OF  MARRIED  LIFE. 


23 


husband  happy,  to  raise  his  character,  to 
give  dignity  to  his  house,  and  to  train  up 
his  children  in  the  path  of  wisdom — these 
are  the  objects  which  a  true  wife  will  not 
rest  satisfied  without  endeavoring  to  attain. 
And  how  is  all  this  to  be  done  without  re- 
flection, system,  and  self-government  1  Sim- 
ply to  mean  well,  may  be  the  mere  impulse 
of  a  child  or  an  idiot ;  but  to  know  how  to 
act  well,  so  as  that  each  successive  kind  im- 
pulse shall  be  made  to  tell  upon  the  welfare 
and  the  happiness  of  others,  is  the  highest 
lesson  which  the  school  of  moral  discipline 
can  teach. 

Nor  is  it  only  by.the  exercise  of  a  high  or- 
der of  talent  that  this  branch  of  wisdom  can 
be  attained.  It  is  by  using  such  talent  as  we 
have,  by  beginning  early  to  observe  and  to 
think,  to  lay  down  rules  for  self-discipline, 
and  to  act  upon  them,  so  that  in  after  years 
they  shall  have  become  too  familiar  and  habi 
tual  to  require  an  effort  to  maintain.  Thu; 
it  is  unquestionably  better  that  the  grea 
work  of  mental  discipline  should  be  com 
menced  after  marriage,  than  not  at  all ;  bu 
the  woman  who  delays  this  work  until  tha 
time,  is  not  much  wiser  than  the  man  wh 
should  have  to  learn  to  walk  after  he  had  en- 
gaged to  run  a  race. 

Already,  even  in  the  first  year  of  married 
life,  all  the  previously  formed  habits  a  woman 
has   indulged,  begin  to   tell  upon   a  larger 
scale  than  they  could  have  done  in  her  sin- 
gle state.     The  art  of  economizing  time  may 
now  be  made  to  yield  a  mine  of  wealth,  be- 
yond what  riches  alone  could  ever  have  be- 
stowed ;  and  of  this  most  precious  treasure, 
neither  change  of  fortune,  nor  place,  nor  cir- 
cumstance, will  be  able  to  deprive  her.    If 
that  cleverness  which  I  have  attempted  to 
describe  in  a  previous  work*  has  been  ac- 
quired and  practised  in  her  early  years,  it 
will  now  have  become  like  a  part  of  her  na- 
ture— an  additional  faculty,  which  is  really 
nothing  less  than  the  power  of  turning  every 
thing  to  the  best  account;    and  this  power 
she  will  now  be  able  to  exercise  at  will",  for 

*  The  Daughters  of  England. 


the  benefit  of  all  with  whom  she  is  asso- 
ciated. 

"  But  of  what  use,"  some  may  be  inclined 
to  ask,  "  is  her  learning  and  her  knowledge, 
now  that  the  actual  work  of  the  hand  has 
become  a  duty  of  such  important  considera- 
tion 1"  I  answer,  that  the  early  attainment 
of  learning  and  knowledge  will  be  found  of 
more  than  tenfold  importance  now ;  because, 
in  the  first  place,  there  will  be  no  longer  time 
for  their  acquisition ;  and  in  the  next,  they 
will  be  wanted  every  day,  if  not  in  their  di- 
rect, in  their  relative  exercise,  to  raise  the 
tone  of  social  intercourse  around  the  domes- 
tic hearth. 

''Music,  painting,  and  poetry,  taste,  tact,  and 
observation,  may  all  be  made  conducive  to 
the  same  desirable  end ;  for  if  by  the  mar- 
riage vow,  you  hoped  to  unite  yourself  to  an 
immortal  mind — and  I  cannot  believe  of  my 
countrywomen  that  more  grovelling  thoughts 
would  be  theirs  at  that  solemn  hour — you 
must  desire  to  sustain  and  cherish  such  a 
mind,  in  all  its  highest  aspirations,  and  in  all 
its  noblest  aims.  In  fact,  I  know  not  what 
love  is,  if  it  seeks  not  the  moral  and  intellec- 
tual perfection  of  its  object — if  it  is  not  willing, 
in  order  to  promote  this  glorious  purpose — 

"  To  watch  all  time,  and  pry  into  all  space  ;** 

so  that  no  opportunity  may  be  lost,  and  no 
means  neglected,  of  raising  the  tone  of  a  hus- 
iband's  character  to  the  highest  scale  which 

ian  is  capable  of  attaining.  It  is  true,  that 
;o  comfort  and  sustain  the  body  is  a  duty 
[which  ought  never  to  be  neglected ;  but  the 

•oman  who  can  rest  satisfied  with  this,  knows 
jittle  of  the  holy  and  elevating  principal  of 
•eal  love — of  that  love  which  alone  can  jus- 
:ify  any  one  in  taking  upon  herself  the  sacred 
•esponsibilities  of  a  wife. 

Influenced  by  this  love,  the  woman  of  right 
feeling  will  perceive,  though  but  recently  mar 
ried,  that  her  position  is  one  of  relative  import- 
ance ;  that  however  insignificant  each  sepa- 
rate act  of  her  life  might  have  been  when  she 
dwelt  alone,  or  as  an  inferior  member  of  a 
family,  she  has  now  become  the  centre  of  a 
circle  of  influence,  which  will  widen  and  ex- 


THE  WIVES  OF  ENGLAND. 


tend  itself  to  other  circles,  until  it  mixes  with 
the  great  ocean  of  eternity.  Thus,  it  is  not 
only  what  she  says  and  does,  but  also  what 
she  leaves  unsaid  and  undone,  which  will 
give  a  coloring  to  futurity,  so  far  as  the  in- 
fluence of  a  wife  extends ;  for  to  have  neg- 
lected acts  of  duty,  or  opportunities  of  advice 
and  encouragement,  is  in  reality  to  incur  the 
risk  of  consequences  as  calamitous  as  those 
which  follow  having  spoken  unwisely,  or 
acted  from  improper  motives. 

It  is  a  serious  and  alarming  thought,  but 
one  which  ought  to  be  ever  present  with  the 
young  wife,  that  no  servant  can  leave  her 
establishment  without  being  either  better  or 
worse  for  her  experience  there ;  that  no  party 
can  meet  beneath  her  roof  without  receiving 
some  good  or  evil  bias  from  the  general  tone 
of  her  conversation  and  manners ;  and  above 
all,  that  the  rules  she  lays  down  for  the  regu- 
lation of  her  household,  the  principles  of  jus- 
tice and  integrity,  of  benevolence,  temperance, 
order,  and  Christian  charity,  which  are  there 
acted  upon,  will  diffuse  themselves  through 
the  different  members  of  her  household,  and, 
flowing  thus  through  various  channels,  will 
become  the  foundation  of  peace  and  comfort 
in  other  families,  they  in  their  turn  dissemi- 
nating the  same  principles  to  the  end  of  time. 

What  a  sublime  —  what  an  elevating 
thought!  May  it  fill  the  happy  bosom  of 
every  English  bride,  and  may  the  closing  re- 
solution of  the  first  year  of  her  married  life 
be  this — "  Let  others  do  as  they  will,  but  as 
for  me  and  my  house,  we  will  serve  the  Lord," 


CHAPTER  III. 

CHARACTERISTICS  OF  MEN. 

IN*  approaching  this  part  of  my  subject,  I 
cannot  but  feel  that  it  is  one  which  I  have 
neither  the  understanding  nor  the  skill  to 
treat  with  ample  justice.  All  I  will  venture 
upon,  therefore,  is  to  point  out  a  few  of  those 
peculiarities,  which  women  who  have  been 
but  little  accustomed  to  the  society  of  men, 


might  otherwise  be  surprised  to  find  in  a  hus- 
band. If,  in  pursuance  of  this  task,  what  I 
am  compelled  to  say,  should  appear  in  any 
way  disparaging  to  the  dignity  of  men  in 
general,  my  apology  must  be  this  —  that  it  is 
the  very  peculiarities  I  am  about  to  point  out, 
which  constitute  the  chief  difficulties  a  mar- 
ried woman  has  to  contend  with,  and  which, 
therefore,  claim  the  sympathy  of  such  as  are 
anxious  to  assist  her  in  the  right  performance 
of  her  duties  as  a  wife. 

Were  all  men  excellent,  without  inconsis- 
tencies, and  without  defects,  there  would  be 
no  need  for  words  of  caution  or  advice  ad- 
dressed to  the  weaker  sex,  but  especially  to 
wives,  for  each  would  have  perpetually  be- 
fore her,  a  perfect  model  of  true  excellence, 
from  which  she  would  be  ashamed  to  differ, 
and  by  which  she  would  be  taught  at  once 
to  admire  and  imitate  whatever  is  most  wor- 
thy of  esteem.  With  gratitude  we  ought  fo 
acknowledge  our  belief,  that  morally  andspir- 
itually  there  is  perfect  equality^  between-men 
and-BUMaejl^jfi^JnJhe  character  of  a  noble, 
enlightened,  and  truly  good  man,  there  is  a 

.  an   n,e,{trly  approach- 


ing what  we  believe  to  be  the  nature  and  ca- 
jacity  of  angels,  that  as  no  feeling  can  ex- 
ceed. so  no  language  can  describe,  the  degree 
of  .admiration  and  re.^pn.-t  \\ 
plation  oTsuch  a  character  must  excite.  To 
be  permitteTTto  dwell  within  the  influence  of 
;  such  a  man,  must  be  a  privilege  of  the  high- 
est order  ;  to  listen  to  his  conversation,  must 
be  a  perpetual  feast  ;  but  to  be  permitted  into 
his  heart  —  to  share  his  counsels,  and  to  be 
the  chosen  companion  of  his  joys  and  sor- 
rows !  —  it  is  difficult  to  say  whether  humility 
or  gratitude  should  preponderate  in  the  feel- 
ings of  the  woman  thus  distinguished  and 
I  thus  blest.  Axv-fc, 

If  all  men  were  of  this  description,  these 
pages  might  be  given  to  the  winds.  We 
must  suppose,  however,  for  the  sake  of 
meeting  every  case,  and  especially  the  most 
diffioult,  that  there  are  men  occasionally 
found  who  are  not,  strictly  speaking,  noble, 
nor  highly  enlightened,  nor  altogether  good. 
That  such  men  are  as  much  disposed  as 


CHARACTERISTICS  OF  MEN. 


their  superiors  to  enter  into  the  married 
state,  is  also  a  fact  of  public  notoriety,  and 
it  is  to  the  women  who  venture  upon  uniting 
themselves  to  such  men  for  life,  that  I  would 
be  understood  chiefly  to  address  myself. 

In  order  to  render  the  subject  more  clear, 
I  will  in  the  first  place  draw  an  imaginary 
line  between  reasonable,  and  unreasonable, 
men.  A  reasonable  man  is  one  who  will 
give  a  candid  hearing  to  arguments  against 
his  own  preconceived  opinions,  and  who, 
when  he  believes  himself  to  have  good  cause 
for  acting  or  thinking  as  he  does,  is  yet  will- 
ing to  be  shown  a  better  cause  for  acting  or 
thinking  differently.  The  mind  of  a  reason- 
able  man  is,  therefore,  open  to  conviction, 
impartial,  and  comprehensive  ;  jind_a]l_these 
qualities,  from  the  very  nature  of  his  consti- 
tution, ho  pooocoees  in  a  liigher  degree  than 
they  can  be  possessed  by  woman.  An  un- 
reasonable man  is  one  who  will  think  and  act 
in  a  particular  manner,  simply  because  he 
wilL^  If  he  knows  any  better  reason  why  he 
so  thinks  and  acts,  he  deems  it  unnecessary 
to  disclose  it,  because  to  him  this  is  all-suffi- 
cient ;  and  as  it  is  one  which  no  argument 
can  refute,  and  no  opposition  overcome,  the 
woman  who  has  to  accommodate  her  habits 
to  his,  had  need  commence  the  preparation 
for  her  married  life,  by  a  study  of  patience 
from  the  book  of  Job. 

If,  as  I  have  stated,  the  example  and  influ- 
ence of  a  truly  excellent  man,  are  such  as  to 
render  the  very  atmosphere  in  which  he  lives 
one  of  perpetual  improvement  and  delight ; 
on  the  other  hand,  there  is  nothing  more  dis- 
couraging to  a  woman,  than  to  find  defects 
in  the  character  she  has  associated  herself 
with  for  life,  having  believed  it  to  be  thus  ex- 
cellent. Indeed,  the  peculiarities  of  the  wise, 
and  the  inconsistencies  of  the  good,  among 
the  nobler  sex,  have  a  peculiarly  startling  ef- 
fect upon  women  in  general,  and  often  prove 
the  means  of  retarding  their  improvement, 
by  awakening  the  childish  and  petulant 
thought,  that  if  such  are  the  best,  there  can 
be  little  use  in  striving  after  excellence  at 
all. 

All  women  should,  therefore,  be  prepared 


for  discovering  faults  in  men,  as  they  are  for 
beholding  spots  in  the  sun,  or  clouds  in  the 
summer  sky.  Nor  is  it  consistent  with  the 
disinterested  nature  of  women's  purest,  deep- 
est  affection,  that  they  should  love  them  less, 
because  they  cannot  admire  them  more. 

Much  allowance  should  be  made  in  all  euch 
calculations,  for  the  peculiar  mode  of  educa- 
tion by  which  men  are  trained  for  the  world. 
From  their  early  childhood,  girls  are  accus- 
tomed to  fill  an  inferior  place,  to  give  up,  to 
fall  back,  and  to  be  as  nothing  in  comparison 
pvith  their  brothers  ;  while  boys,  on  the  other 
hand,  have  to  suffer  all  the  disadvantages  in 
after  life,  of  having  had  their  precocious  self- 
j  ishness  encouraged,  from  the  time  when  they 
first  began  to  feel  the  dignity  of  superior 
power,  and  the  triumph  of  occupying  a  su- 
perior place.  .'• 

Men  who  have  been  thus  educated  by  fool- 
ish and  indulgent  mothers;  who  have  been 
placed  at  public  schools,  where  the  influence, 
the  character,  and  the  very  name  of  woman 
was  a  by-word  for  contempt ;  who  have  been 
afterwards  associated  with  sisters  who  were 
capricious,  ignorant,  and  vain — such  men 
are  very  unjustly  blamed  for  being  selfish, 
domineering,  and  tyrannical  to  the  other  sex. 
In  fact,  how  should  they  be  otherwise  1  It 
is  a  common  thing  to  complain  of  the  selfish- 
ness of  men,  but  I  have  often  thought,  on 
looking  candidly  at  their  early  lives,  and  re- 
flecting how  little  cultivation  of  the  heart  is 
blended  with  what  is  popularly  called  the 
best  education,  the  wonder  should  be  that 
men  are  not  more  selfish  still. 

With  all  these  allowances,  then,  we  may 
grant  them  to  be  selfish,  and  pity,  rather  than 
blame  them  that  they  are  so ;  for  no  happy 
being  ever  yet  was  found,  whose  hopes  and 
wisnes  centred  in  its  own  bosom. 

The  young  and  inexperienced  woman,  who 
has  but  recently  been  made  the  subject  of 
man's  attentions,  and  the  object  of  his  choice, 
will  probably  be  disposed  to  dispute  this 
point  with  me,  and  to  argue  that  one  man  at 
least  is  free  from  selfishness;  because  she 
sees,  or  rather  hears  her  lover  willing  to  give 
up  every  thing  for  her.  But  let  no  woman 


THE  WIVES  OF  ENGLAND. 


trust  to  such  obsequiousness,  for  generally 
speaking,  those  who  are  the  most  extrava- 
gant in  their  professions,  and  the  most  servile 
in  their  adulation  before  marriage,  are  the 
most  unreasonable  and  requiring  afterwards. 
Let  her  settle  it  then  in  her  own  mind,  what- 
ever aspect  her  affairs  may  assume  at  pres- 
ent, that  men  in  general  are  more  apt  than 
women,  to  act  and  think  as  if  they  were 
created  to  exist  of,  and  by,  themselves ;  and 
this  self-sustained  existence  a  wife  can  only 
share,  in  proportion  as  she  is  identified  in 
every  thing  with  her  husband.  Men  have 
no  idea,  generally  speaking,  of  having  them- 
selves and  their  affairs  made  subservient  to 
an  end,  even  though  it  may  be  a  good  one. 
They  are,  in  fact,  their  own  alpha  and  omega 
— beginning  and  end.  But  all  this,  I  repeat, 
is  the  consequence  of  a  want  of  that  moral 
training  which  ought  ever  to  be  made  the 
prominent  part  of  education. 

Beyond  this,  however,  it  may  be  said  to  be 
a  necessary  part  of  man's  nature,  and  condu- 
cive to  his  support  in  the  position  he  has  to 
maintain,  that  he  should,  in  a  greater  degree 
than  woman,  be  sufficient  unto  himself.  The 
nature  of  his  occupations,  and  the  character 
of  his  peculiar  duties,  require  this.  The  con- 
tending interests  of  the  community  at  large, 
the  strife  of  public  affairs,  and  the  compe- 
tition of  business,  with  the  paramount  im- 
portance of  establishing  himself  as  the  master 
of  a  family,  and  the  head  of  a  household,  all 
require  a  degree  of  concentrated  effort  in  fa- 
vor of  self,  and  a  powerful  repulsion  against 
others,  which  woman,  happily  for  her,  is  sel- 
dom or  never  called  upon  to  maintain. 

The  same  degree  of  difference  in  the  edu- 
cation of  men  and  women,  leads,  on  the  one 
hand,  to  a  more  expansive  range  of  intellect 
and  thought ;  and  on  the  other,  to  the  exer- 
cise of  the  same  faculties  upon  what  is  par- 
ticular and  minute.  Men  consequently  are 
accustomed  to  generalize.  They  look  with 
far-stretching  views  to  the  general  bearing 
of  every  question  submitted  to  their  considera- 
tion. Even  when  planning  for  the  good  of 
their  fellow-creatures,  it  is  on  a  large  scale, 
and  most  frequently  upon  the  principle  of  the 


greatest  good  to  the  greatest  number.  By 
following  out  this  system,  injustice  is  often 
unconsciously  done  to  individuals,  and  even 
a  species  of  cruelty  exercised,  which  it  should 
be  woman's  peculiar  object  to  study  to  avert ; 
but  at  the  same  time,  to  effect  her  purpose 
in  such  a  way,  as  neither  to  thwart  nor  in- 
terfere with  the  greater  and  more  important 
good. 

We  see  here,  as  in  a  thousand  other  in- 
stances, the  beautiful  adaptation  of  the  natu- 
ral constitution  of  the  two  sexes,  so  as  to 
effect  a  greater  amount  of  good  by  their  joint 
efforts,  than  either  could  effect  alone.  Were 
an  island  peopled  only  by  men,  the  strictness 
of  its  judicial  regulations,  and  the  cold  form- 
ality of  its  public  institutions,  would  render  it 
an  ungenial  soil  for  the  growth  of  those  finer 
feelings,  and  those  subtler  impulses  of  nature, 
which  not  only  beautify  the  whole  aspect  of 
human  life,  but  are  often  proved  to  have 
been  blossoms  of  the  richest  fruit,  and  seeds 
of  the  most  abundant  harvest  And  were  a 
neighboring  island  peopled  by  women  only, 
the  discord  of  Babel,  or  the  heated  elements 
of  a  volcano,  could  scarcely  equal  the  con- 
fusion, the  ebullition,  and  the  universal  tu- 
mult, that  would  follow  the  partial  attention 
given  to  every  separate  complaint,  the  ready 
credence  accorded  to  every  separate  story, 
and  the  prompt  and  unhesitating  application 
of  means,  to  effect  at  all  times  the  most  in- 
compatible ends. 

Those  who  argue  for  the  perfect  equality — 
the  oneness  of  women  in  their  intellectual 
nature  with  men,  appear  to  know  little  of 
that  higher  philosophy,  by  which  both,  from 
the  very  distinctness  of  their  characters,  have 
been  made  subservient  to  the  purposes  of 
wisdom  and  of  goodness ;  and  after  having 
observed  with  deep  thought,  and  profound 
reverence,  the  operation  of  mind  on  mind, 
the  powerful  and  instinctive  sympathies 
which  rule  our  very  being,  and  the  asso- 
ciated influence  of  different  natures,  all 
working  together,  yet  too  separate  and  dis- 
tinct to  create  confusion ;  to  those  who  have 
thus  regarded  the  perfect  adjustment  of  the 
plans  of  an  all-wise  Providence,  I  own  it 


CHARACTERISTICS  OF  MEN. 


27 


does  appear  an  ignorant  and  vulgar  contest, 
to  strive  to  establish  the  equality  of  that, 
which  would  lose  not  only  its  utility,  but  its 
perfection,  by  being  assimilated  with  a  dif- 
ferent nature. 

From  the  same  constitution  of  mind  which 
leads  men  to  generalize,  and  to  look  at  every 
thing  they  contemplate  on  an  extensive  scale, 
they  are  seldom  good  economists.  Even  the 
most  penurious,  the  very  misers  of  whom  we 
read  such  extraordinary  accounts,  appear  to 
have  had  a  very  mistaken  idea  of  the  best 
means  of  ensuring  the  great  object  of  their 
lives.  Thus,  while  most  anxious  to  avoid 
the  least  unnecessary  expense,  some  men 
greatly  increase  the  waste  and  the  outlay  of 
money  in  their  household  arrangements,*y 
not  allowing  a  sufficient  number  of  imple- 
ments, utensils,  or  other  conveniences,  and 
means,  for  the  purpose  of  facilitating  domes- 
tic operations,  by  making  each  individual 
thing  supply  the  place  for  which  it  is  most 
suitable,  and  best  calculated  to  secure  against 
absolute  waste. 

The  master  of  a  family  is  quite  capable  of 
perceiving  that  money  for  domestic  purposes 
is  often  in  demand  ;  and  that  through  some 
channel  or  other,  it  escapes  very  rapidly ;  but 
he  is  altogether  incompetent — and  would 
that  all  men  would  believe  it ! — to  judge  of 
the  necessity  there  is  for  each  particular  sum, 
or  how  the  whole  in  the  end  must  unavoida- 
bly be  increased,  by  making  every  article  of 
household  use  answer  as  many  purposes  as  it 
is  capable  of,  without  regard  to  fitness,  dura- 
bility, or  strength. 

But  if,  on  the  one  hand,  our  first  wish  for 
the  increased  happiness  of  the  homes  of 
England  would  be,  that  men  should  let  these 
things  alone  ;  our  next,  and  perhaps  it  ought 
to  stand  first,  and  be  still  more  earnest  than 
the  other,  is  this,  that  all  women  should  be 
so  educated,  and  so  prepared  by  the  right 
disposition  of  their  own  minds,  as  to  afford 
their  husbands  just  grounds  for  perfect  con- 
fidence in  their  understanding  and  right  prin- 
ciple, with  regard  to  these  important  affairs. 
For  in  the  first  place,  without  understanding, 
no  woman  can  economize ;  and  in  the  next, 


without  being  supremely  anxious  for  the  ful- 
filment of  domestic  duty,  no  woman  will. 
Thus,  in  addition  to  other  causes  of  anxiety, 
sufficiently  abounding  in  the  present  day, 
throughout  every  department  of  business, 
hundreds  and  thousands  of  men  in  the  re- 
spectable walks  of  life,  have  to  suffer  from 
daily  and  almost  hourly  apprehension,  that  a 
system  of  neglect  and  extravagance  in  their 
own  houses,  is  wasting  away  the  slender 
profits  of  their  labor  and  their  care.  On  the 
score  of  simple  kindness,  then,  one  would 
suppose  that  a  right-minded  woman  would 
.wish  to  spare  her  husband  these  distressing 
thoughts;  while,  on  the  score  of  domestic 
comfort,  ease,  and  independence,  it  is  impos- 
sible to  calculate  the  vast  amount  to  which 
she  would  herself  be  the  gainer,  by  convin- 
cing her  husband  that  she  was  not  only  able, 
but  determined,  to  manage  his  household  ex- 
penditure with  the  least  possible  waste. 

"With  all  this,  however,  and  often  in  con- 
nection with  the  most  rigid  notions  of  econ- 
omy, men  are  fond  of  personal  indulgences ; 
nor  ought  they  ever  to  be  absolutely  denied 
so  reasonable  a  means  of  restoring  their  ex- 
hausted energy  and  cheerfulness,  more  espe- 
cially, because  those  who  are  connected  in 
any  way  with  business,  or  who  have  to  provide 
by  their  own  efforts  for  the  maintenance  of 
their  families,  are  generally  so  circumstanced 
through  the  greater  portion  of  each  day,  as 
to  be  as  far  removed  as  possible  from  all  op- 
portunity of  personal  enjoyment. 

It  would,  indeed,  be  a  hard  thing  to  reflise 
to  the  husband  who  returns  home  from  his 
desk,  his  counter,  or  his  fields,  the  best  seat, 
or  the  choicest  food,  with  any  other  indul- 
gence his  circumstances  may  afford.  Here, 
however,  in  certain  families,  exists  a  great 
difficulty;  for  some  men.  and  I  need  not  say 
they  are  of  the  unreasonable  class,  are  deter- 
mined to  have  the  indulgences,  and  yet  are 
unwilling  to  incur  the  expense.  From  their 
habit  of  disregarding  things  in  detail,  and 
looking  upon  them  only  as  a  whole;  they 
are  utterly  unconscious  of  the  importance  of 
every  little  addition  in  the  shape  of  luxury  to 
the  general  sum  ;  and  thus  the  wife  is  placed 


28 


THE  WIVES  OF  ENGLAND. 


in  the  painful  dilemma,  either  of  denying  her 
husband  the  gratification  of  his  tastes  and 
wishes,  or  of  bearing  all  the  blame  of  con- 
ducting her  household  expenses  on  too  ex- 
travagant a  scale. 

There  are  few  situations  in  the  long  cata- 
logue of  female  perplexities  more  harassing 
than  this ;  for  it  must  ever  be  borne  in  mind, 
that  men  have  a  tendency  to  dislike  the  im- 
mediate instrument  of  their  suffering  or  priva- 
tion. And  this  again  brings  us  to  observe 
another  of  their  peculiarities,  so  important 
in  its  influence  upon  the  whole  of  mar- 
ried life,  that  if  a  woman  should  venture  to 
judge  of  man's  love  by  her  own,  she  would 
probably  commit  one  of  the  most  fatal  mis- 
takes by  which  human  happiness  was  ever 
wrecked. 

The  love  of  woman  appears  to  have  been 
created  solely  to  minister ;  that  of  man,  to  be 
ministered  unto.  It  is  true,  his  avocations 
lead  him  daily  to  some  labor,  or  some  effort 
for  the  maintenance  of  his  family ;  and  he 
often  conscientiously  believes  that  this  labor  is 
for  his  wife.  But  the  probability  is,  that  he 
would  be  just  as  attentive  to  his  business,  and 
as  eager  about  making  money,  had  he  no  wife 
at  all — witness  the  number  of  single  men 
who  provide  with  as  great  care,  and  as  plen- 
tifully, according  to  their  wr.nts,  for  the  main- 
tenance of  a  house  without  either  wife  or 
child. 

As  it  is  the  natural  characteristic  of  wo- 
man's love  in  its  most  refined,  as  well  as  its 
most  practical  development,  to  be  perpetual- 
ly doing  something  for  the  good  or  the  happi- 
ness of  the  object  of  her  affection,  it  is  but 
reasonable  that  man's  personal  comfort  should 
be  studiously  attended  to ;  and  in  this,  the 
complacence  and  satisfaction  which  most  men 
evince  on  finding  themselves  placed  at  table 
before  a  favorite  dish,  situated  beside  a  clean 
hearth,  or  accommodated  with  an  empty  sofa, 
is  of  itself  a  sufficient  reward  for  any  sacrifice 
such  indulgence  may  have  cost  In  proofs 
of  affection  like  these,  there  is  something  tan- 
gible which  speaks  home  to  the  senses — some- 
thing which  man  can  understand  without  an 
effort ;  and  he  will  sit  down  to  eat,  or  com- 


pose himself  to  rest,  with  more  hearty  good- 
will towards  the  wife  who  has  been  thought- 
ful about  these  things,  than  if  she  had  been 
all  day  busily  employed  in  writing  a  treatise 
on  morals  for  his  especial  benefit 

Again,  man's  dignity,  as  well  as  his  com- 
fort, must  be  ministered  unto.  I  propose  to 
treat  this  subject  more  fully  in  another  chap- 
ter, but  in  speaking  of  man's  peculiarities  it 
must  never  be  forgotten  that  he  ought  not  to 
be  required  to  bear  the  least  infringement  up- 
on his  dignity  as  a  man,  and  a  husband.  The 
woman  who  has  the  bad  taste,  and  worse 
feeling,  to  venture  upon  this  experiment,  ef- 
fectually lowers  herself;  for  in  proportion  as 
her  husband  sinks,  she  must  sink  with  him, 
and  ever,  as  wife,  be  lower  still.  Many,  how- 
ever, from  ignorance,  and  with  the  very  best 
intentions,  err  in  this  way,  and  I  am  inclined 
to  think  such  persons  suffer  more  from  the 
consequences  of  their  folly,  than  others  do 
from  their  wilful  deviation  from  what  is  right; 
just  as  self-love  is  more  wounded  by  an  in- 
nocent, than  by  an  intentional  humiliation ; 
because  the  latter  shows  us  how  little  we  are 
really  esteemed,  while  the  former  invests  us 
with  a  certain  degree  of  importance,  as  being 
worthy  of  a  premeditated  insult 

It  is  unquestionably  the  inalienable  right  of 
all  men,  whether  ill  or  well,  rich  or  poor,  wise 
or  foolish,  to  be  treated  with  deference,  and 
made  much  of  in  their  own  houses.  It  is 
true  that  in  the  last  mentioned  case,  this  duty 
may  be  attended  with  some  difficulty  in  the 
performance ;  but  as  no  man  becomes  a  fool, 
or  loses  his  senses  by  marriage,  the  woman 
who  has  selected  such  a  companion  must 
abide  by  the  consequences ;  and  even  he, 
whatever  may  be  his  degree  of  fo!!y,  is  enti- 
tled to  respect  from  her,  because  shejiasvol- 
ujitajily_pjaced  hgrselfJnj?"^  a  ]^sjtjj™jfta* 
she_jnust  necessarily  be  his,  inferior. 

I  have  said,  that  whether  well  of  ill,  a  hus- 
band is  entitled  to  respect ;  and  it  is  perhaps 
when  ill,  more  than  at  any  other  time,  that 
men  are  impressed  with  a  sense  of  their  own 
importance.  It  is,  therefore,  an  act  of  kind- 
ness, as  well  as  of  justice,  and  a  concession 
easily  made,  to  endeavor  to  keep  up  this  idea, 


CHARACTERISTICS  OF  MEN. 


29 


>y  all  those  little  acts  of  delicate  attention 
vhich  at  once  do  good  to  the  body,  and  sus- 
ain  the  mind.  Illness  is  to  men  a  sufficient 
rial  and  humiliation  of  itself,  as  it  deprives 
hem  of  their  free  agency,  cuts  them  off  from 
their  accustomed  manly  avocations,  and 
shuts  them  up  to  a  kind  of  imprisonment, 
which  from  their  previous  habits  they  are  lit- 
;le  calculated  to  bear.  A  sensible  and  kind- 
learted  woman,  therefore,  will  never  inflict 
upon  the  man  she  loves,  when  thus  circum- 
itanced,  the  additional  punishment  of  feeling 
that  it  is  possible  for  him  to  be  forgotten  or 
neglected. 

But  chiefly  in  poverty,  or  when  laboring 
under  depressed  circumstances,  it  is  the  part 
of  a  true  wife  to  exhibit  by  the  most  delicate, 
but  most  profound  respect,  how  highly  she 
is  capable  of  valuing  her  husband,  indepen- 
dently of  all  those  adventitious  circumstances, 
according  to  which  he  has  been  valued  by 
the  world.  It  is  here  that  the  dignity  of  man 
is  most  apt  to  give  way — here  that  his  stout 
heart  fails  him — and  here  then  it  must  be 
woman's  part  to  build  him  up.  Not,  as  many 
are  too  apt  to  suppose,  merely  to  comfort  him 
by  her  endearments,  but  actually  to  raise  him 
in  his  own  esteem,  to  restore  to  him  his  esti- 
mate of  his  moral  worth,  and  to  convince  him 
that  it  is  beyond  the  power  of  circumstances 
to  degrade  an  upright  and  an  honest  man, 

And,  alas !  how  much  of  this  is  needed  in 
the  present  day  !  Could  the  gay  and  thought- 
less Daughters  of  England  know  for  what 
situations  they  are  training — could  they 
know  how  often  it  will  become  their  duty  to 
assume  the  character  of  the  strong,  in  order 
to  support  the  weak,  they  would  surely  begin 
betimes  to  think  of  these  things ;  and  to  study 
the  different  workings  of  the  human  heart, 
so  as  to  be  able  to  manage  even  its  master- 
chords,  without  striking  them  too  rudely,  or 
with  a  hand  too  little  skilled. 

And  after  all,  this  great  dignity  of  man,  is 
not  much  of  it  artificial,  or  at  least  put  on 
like  a  robe  of  state  to  answer  an  especia 
end?  Yes;  and  a  pitiful  and  heart-rending 
spectacle  it  is,  to  see  the  weakness  of  man'; 
heart  disrobed  of  all  its  mantling  pride— the 


utter  nakedness,  I  might  almost  say,  for  wo- 
man has  ever  something  left  to  conceal  her 
destitution.  In  the  multitude  of  her  resour- 
ces she  has  also  a  multitude  of  alleviations 
to  her  distress ;  but  man  has  nothing.  In 
his  humiliation  he  is  like  a  blighted  tree. 
The  birds  of  the  air  no  longer  nestle  in  its 
boughs,  the  weary  traveller  no  longer  sits 
down  to  rest  beneath  its  shade.  Nothing  is 
ieft  to  it  but  the  clinging  ivy,  to  cover  with 
freshness  and  beauty  its  ruin  and  decay. 

It  is  said  of  woman  that  her  imagination 
is  easily  captivated,  that  she  is  won  by  the 
hero's  fame,  and  led  on  by  her  love  of  glory 
and  distinction  to  follow  in  the  sunny  path 
of  the  illustrious  or  the  great  Jut  far  more 
fatal  to  the  peace  of  woman,  more  influential 
upon  her  conduct,  more  triumphant  in  their 
mastery  over  her  whole  being,  are  the  tears 
and  helplessness  of  man,  when  his  proud 
spirit  sinks  within  him,  or  when  he  flies  from 
his  compeers  in  the  race  of  glory,  to  bury  his 
shame,  and  perhaps  his  guilt,  in  her  bosom. 

I  will  not  ask  how  often,  after  this  exhibi- 
tion of  his  weakness,  after  regaining  his  post 
of  honor,  and  being  received  again  a  com- 
petitor for  distinction,  he  'has  forgotten  the 
witness  of  his  humiliation ;  but  I  believe  it 
is  only  as  a  wife,  a  mother,  or  a  sister,  that 
woman  can  be  this  friend  to  man,  with  safety 
to  herself,  and  with  certainty  that  he  will  not 
afterwards  rather  avoid  than  seek  her,  from 
the  feeling  that  she  has  beheld  him  shorn  of 
his  dignity,  and  is  consequently  able  to  re- 
mind him  of  the  humiliating  past  For  the 
wife  it  might  also  be  a  dangerous  experiment, 
even  in  her  fondest  and  most  unguarded  mo- 
ments, to  make  any  allusion  to  scenes  and 
circumstances  of  this  description ;  especially 
to  presume  upon  having  necessarily  assumed 
at  such  times  the  stronger  and  more  impor- 
tant part.  When  her  husband  chooses  to  be 
dignified  again,  and  is  capable  of  maintain- 
ing that  dignity,  she  must  adapt  herself  to 
the  happy  change,  and  fall  back  into  com- 
parative insignificance,  just  as  if  circum- 
stances had  never  given  her  a  momentary 
superiority  over  him. 

The  peculiarity  already  alluded  to   as  a 


30 


THE  WIVES  OF  ENGLAND. 


characteristic  of  men,  and  as  leading  them  to 
attach  more  importance  to  what  is  immediate 
and  tangible,  than  what  is  remote  or  ideal, 
is  one  which  renders  them  particularly  liable 
to  deception,  or  rather  to  be,  what  is  more 
properly  called,  practised  upon,  than  directly 
deceived ;  so  much  so,  that  I  believe  any 
woman  who  could  manage  her  own  temper, 
might  manage  her  husband,  provided  she 
possessed  his  affections.  I  say  migJit,  be- 
cause  the  mode  of  management  by  such 
means  would  be  utterly  revolting  to  a  gen- 
erous and  upright  mind.  Thus,  by  fair 
speech  and  smooth  manners,  accompanied 
with  servile  and  flattering  subserviency  in 
little  things?  some  artful  women  have  con- 
trived to  win  their  way  to  the  accomplish- 
ment of  almost  every  wish ;  when  a  single 
rash  or  hasty  word,  especially  if  it  implied 
an  assumption  of  the  right  to  choose,  would 
have  effectually  defeated  their  ends. 

I  have  listened  much  when  men  have 
been  discussing  the  merits  of  women,  and 
have  never  heard  any  quality  so  universally 
commended  by  the  nobler  sex,  as  quietness ; 
while  the  opposite  demerit  of  a  tongue  too 
loud,  too  ready,  or  too  importunate  in  its  ex- 
ertions, has  been  as  universally  condemned. 
Thus  I  am  inclined  to  think  that  silence  in 
general,  and  smooth  speech  when  language 
must  be  used,  are  ranked  by  most  men 
amongst  the  highest  excellences  of  the  fe- 
male character;  while  on  the  other  hand, 
those  wordy  weapons  sometimes  so  injudi- 
ciously made  use  of,  are  of  all  things  what 
they  most  abhor. 

If,  however,  an  artful  woman  finds  it  easy 
to  practise  upon  her  husband  by  the  immedi- 
ate instrumentality  of  a  manner  suited  to  his 
taste,  this  mean  and  degrading  system  of 
working  out  an  end,  becomes  more  difficult 
in  proportion  to  the  frequency  of  its  detection, 
until  at  last,  some  men  are  brought  to  sus- 
pect that  all  women  act  indirectly  in  every 
thing  they  do.  Hence  comes  that  frequent 
answer  when  we  ask  a  simple  question  mere- 
ly for  the  sake  of  information — "  Why  do  you 
wish  to  know?"  as  if  it  were  impossible  for 
women  to  be  deeply  interested  where  they 


had  no  end  to  serve,  and  as  if  there  must  of 
necessity  be  some  hidden  motive  concealed 
behind  that  which  is  made  apparent  This 
habitual  retort  falls  hardly  upon  those  who 
never  have  deserved  it,  and  not  unfre- 
quently  forms  a  serious  obstacle  in  the  way 
of  obtaining  useful  knowledge ;  but  it  is 
greatly  to  be  feared  that  such  an  expression, 
with  the  suspicion  it  implies,  would  never 
have  become  habitual  to  men,  had  not  the 
general  conduct  of  women  brought  this  just 
punishment  upon  them. 

Indeed,  there  is  something  revolting  to 
man's  very  nature  in  having  to  calculate 
upon  that  kind  of  petty  artifice  which  takes 
advantage  of  unwariness  and  credulity,  for 
working  out  a  purpose,  even  where  that  pur- 
pose may  not  in  itself  be  wrong.  And  here 
we  are  brought  at  once  to  that  great  leading 
peculiarity  in  man's  character — his  nobility, 
or,  in  other  words,  his  exemption  from  those 
innumerable  littlenesses  which  obscure  the 
beauty,  and  sully  the  integrity  of  woman's 
life.  From  all  their  underhand  contrivances, 
their  secret  envyings,  and  petty  spite,  man 
is  exempt ;  so  much  so,  that  the  mere  con- 
templation of  the  broad  clear  basis  of  his 
moral  character,  his  open  truth,  his  single- 
ness of  aim,  and,  above  all,  his  dignified  for- 
bearance under  provocation,  might  often  put 
the  weaker  sex  to  shame. 

I  am  aware  that  there  is  much  in  the  situ- 
ation of  both  parties  to  create  this  difference ; 
that  undisputed  power  to  will,  and  to  act,  is 
often  accompanied  by  a  kind  of  moral  ma- 
jesty, which  a  weaker  spirit  never  can  at- 
tain, while  kept  in  bondage,  either  by  fear  or 
by  absolute  restraint.  I  am  aware  too,  that 
boys,  from  their  very  infancy,  are  accustomed 
to  a  mode  of  treatment  as  much  calculated 
to  make  them  determined,  frank,  and  bold,  as 
that  of  girls  is  to  induce  the  opposite  ex- 
tremes of  weakness,  artifice,  and  timid  help- 
lessness ;  but  even  with  these  allowances,  I 
am  persuaded  there  are  broad  clear  features 
in  the  moral  dignity  of  man,  which  it  is  im- 
possible to  contemplate  in  their  strength  and 
reality,  without  respect  and  admiration. 

And  a  sacred  and  ennobling  trust  it  is  for 


BEHAVIOR  TO  HUSBANDS. 


31 


woman  to  have  the  happiness  of  such  a  be- 
ing committed  to  her  charge — a  holy  privi- 
lege to  be  the  chosen  companion  of  his  lot 

to  come  with  her  helplessness  and  weakness 
to  find  safety  under  his  protection,  and  to  re- 
pose her  own  perturbed  and  troubled  mind 
beneath  the  shelter  of  his  love. 

What  then,  if  by  perpetual  provocation 
she  should  awake  the  tempest  of  his  wrath  ! 
We  will  not  contemplate  the  thought,  for 
there  is  something  as  fearful  in  his  indigna- 
tion, as  there  is  attractive  in  his  kindness, 
and  flattering  in  his  esteem. 

Nor,  in  return  for  this  kindness,  are  we  ac- 
customed to  feel  gratitude  enough  ;  for  take 
away  from  social  life  not  only  the  civility,  but 
the  actual  service  done  by  men,  in  removing 
difficulty,  protecting  weakness,  and  assisting 
in  distress,  in  what  a  joyless,  helpless  world 
would  women  find  themselves,  left  only  to  the 
slender  aid,  and  the  tender  mercies  of  each 
other ! 

It  is  too  much  regarded  merely  as  a  thing 
of  course,  for  men  to  be  obliging  and  atten- 
tive ;  and  it  is  too  little  remembered  at  what 
cost  to  them  we  purchase  their  help  and  their 
indulgence.  Nor  is  it  only  in  solitary  instan- 
ces, or  for  especial  favorites,  that  these  efforts 
have  to  be  made.  It  is  the  sacrifice  of  a 
Thole  lifetime  for  a  man  to  be  polite.  There 
is  no  fireside  so  warm,  but  he  must  leave  it 
on  a  winter's  night  to  walk  home  with  some 
female  visitor,  who  has  probably  no  charm 
for  him  There  is  no  situation  so  eligible, 
but  he  mast  resign  it  if  required.  There  is 
no  difficulty  he  must  not  encounter,  no  fatigue 
he  must  not  endure,  and  no  gratification  he 
must  not  give  up ;  and  for  whom  1  All  would 
do  this  perhaps  for  one  being  in  the  world — 
perhaps  for  more ;  but  to  be  willing  to  do  it 
every  day  and  every  hour,  even  for  the  most 
repulsive,  or  the  most  selfish  and  requiring 
of  their  sex — there  is  a  martyrdom  of  self  in 
all  this,  which  puts  to  shame  the  partial  kind- 
ness and  disinterestedness  of  woman. 

It  may  be  said  that  the  popularity  of  po- 
liteness affords  at  once  its  incentive,  and  jts 
reward.  But  whence  then  do  we  receive 
those  many  private  acts  of  unrequited  ser- 


vice, when  no  other  eye  is  there  but  ours  to 
witness— no  other  tongue  to  praise!  and 
when  we  ourselves  would  probably  have 
been  the  last  recipients  of  such  favor,  had 
our  companion  chosen  to  assume  the  right 
of  selecting  an  object  better  suited  to  his 
taste  1 

It  is  from  considerations  such  as  these,  and 
I  would  wish  to  impress  them  upon  every  fe- 
male mind,  that  I  have  not  included  the  self- 
ishness of  man  among  his  peculiarities,  though 
some  might  think  the  case  would  warrant  a 
notice  of  this  nature.  Yet  such  is  my  con- 
viction, that  man  has  much  to  bear  with 
from  the  capriciousness  of  woman ;  such  is 
my  grateful  estimate  of  his  uncalculating 
kindness,  not  less  to  be  admired  because  it  is 
expected  and  required;  such  too  has  been 
my  own  experience  of  his  general  willingness 
to  oblige,  where  there  was  little  to  attract, 
and  still  less  to  reward ;  that  whatever  may 
be  said  by  others,  it  would  ill  become  me  to 
lift  up  a  voice,  and  that  a  public  one,  against 
the  selfishness  of  men. 

Let  us  rather  look  again  at  that  nobility  of 
which  I  have  already  spoken,  and  while  we 
blush  to  feel  the  stirrings  of  an  inferior  spirit 
prompting  us  to  many  an  unworthy  thought 
and  act,  let  us  study  to  assimilate  our  nature, 
in  all  that  is  truly  excellent,  with  his,  who 
was  at  first  expressly  formed  in  the  image  of 
his  Maker. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

BEHAVIOR   TO   HUSBANDS. 

LEST  the  reader  should  suppose,  from  the 
heading  of  this  chapter,  that  the  management 
of  husbands  is  what  is  really  meant,  I  must 
at  once  disclaim  all  pretension  to  this  particu- 
lar kind  of  skill ;  not  because  I  do  not  think 
it  capable  of  being  carried  out  into  a  system, 
whereby  every  woman  might  become  the  ac- 
tual ruler  in  her  own  domestic  sphere,  but 
because  I  consider  the  system  itself  a  bad 
one,  and  utterly  unworthy  of  being  applied 


32 


THE  WIVES  OF  ENGLAND. 


to  any  but  the  most  extreme  cases  of  unrea- 
sonableness on  the  husband's  part. 

With  regard  to  the  treatment  of  husbands, 
then,  so  great  is  the  variety  of  character  to 
be  taken  into  account  that  it  would  be  impos- 
sible to  lay  down  any  rule  of  universal  appli- 
cation, except  upon  the  broad  principles  of 
kind  feeling,  integrity,  and  common  sense. 
Still  there  are  hints  which  may  be  thrown 
out,  it  is  to  be  hoped,  with  benefit  to  the  in- 
experienced ;  and  many  of  these  will  refer 
again  to  the  peculiarity  already  dwelt  upon 
in  the  foregoing  chapter.  The  tendency  in 
men  which  has  been  described  as  rendering 
them  peculiarly  liable  to  be  impressed  by 
what  is  evident  to  their  senses,  must  ever  be 
consulted  by  the  wife  who  would  adapt  her- 
self to  her  husband's  mood  and  character ; 
and  although  these  may  vary  in  every  indi- 
vidual, and  in  the  same  may  change  with 
every  difference  of  time  and  place,  it  be- 
comes the  duty  of  a  wife,  and  one  would 
suppose  it  must  also  be  her  pleasure,  studi- 
ously to  observe  what  those  things  are,  which 
habitually  strike  the  attention  of  her  husband, 
so  as  to  convey  to  him  immediate  impres- 
sions of  pleasure  or  of  pain ;  remembering 
ever,  that  all  indirect  evidence  of  our  tastes 
and  wishes  having  been  consulted,  even  in 
our  absence,  is  one  of  the  most  grateful  of- 
ferings that  can  be  made  to  every  human 
heart 

Thus  the  general  appearance  of  his  home 
has  much  to  do  with  the  complacency  man 
naturally  feels  on  returning  to  it  If  his 
taste  is  for  neatness  and  order,  for  the  ab- 
sence of  servants,  and  for  perfect  quiet,  it 
would  be  absolute  cruelty  to  allow  such  a 
man  to  find  his  house  in  confusion,  and  to 
have  to  call  in  servants  to  clear  this  thing 
and  the  other  away  after  his  return,  as  if  he 
had  never  once  been  thought  of,  or  at  least 
thought  of  with  kindness  and  consideration, 
until  he  was  actually  seen. 

Some  men  particularly  enjoy  the  cheerful 
welcome  of  a  clean  hearth  and  blazing  fire, 
on  a  winter's  day  ;  and  all  are  more  or  less 
solicitous  to  stir  the  glowing  embers  them- 
selves, rather  than  to  see  them  stirred  by 


others.  I  knew  an  excellent  woman  who  al- 
ways had  her  fire  built  up  in  such  a  manner 
before  her  husband  came  home,  as  to  present 
a  tempting  crust  for  him  to  break  through 
on  his  arrival ;  and  I  much  question  whether 
the  good  lady  was  not  more  loved  for  this 
simple  act,  than  she  would  have  been,  had 
her  husband  found  his  fire  neglected,  and 
herself  engaged  in  tears  and  prayers  for  his 
individual  welfare. 

But  here  again  we  recognise  no  general 
rule,  for  some  men  unquestionably  there  are, 
who  would  much  prefer  that  their  coals 
should  be  forthcoming  on  a  future  day,  than 
thus  unnecessarily  expended  in  a  bonfire  to 
welcome  their  return. 

Again,  it  is  of  little  use  that  you  esteem 
and  reverence  your  husband  in  the  secret  of 
your  heart,  if  you  do  not  by  your  manners, 
both  at  home  and  abroad,  evince  this  pro- 
per deference  and  regard.  At  home  it  is  but 
fitting  that  the  master  of  the  house  should  be 
considered  as  entitled  to  the  choice  of  every 
personal  indulgence,  unless  indisposition  or 
suffering  on  the  part  of  the  wife  render  such 
indulgences  more  properly  her  due ;  but  even 
then  they  ought  to  be  received  as  a  favor, 
rather  than  claimed  as  a  right 

Women,  in  the  present  day,  and  in  houses 
furnished  as  English  homes  generally  are, 
may  enjoy  so  many  advantages  in  the  way 
of  pampering  the  body,  from  which  mers  and 
especially  those  engaged  in  business,  are  de- 
barred, that  they  can  well  afford  to  give  up 
some  of  these  indulgences  to  those  chey  love ; 
and  few  indeed  would  not  rather  see  them 
thus  enjoyed,  than  appropriated  exclusively 
to  themselves. 

There  is,  however,  one  great  difficulty  in 
connection  with  this  duty,  which  it  is  to  be 
hoped  all  persons  are  not,  like  the  writer,  un- 
able to  solve.  It  is  in  the  important  question 
of  self-sacrifice,  how  far  this  virtue  ought  to 
extend  in  the  treatment  of  husbands.  There 
is  certainly  nothing  more  beautiful  to  read  of 
in  books ;  and  could  every  act  of  self-sacri- 
fice be  seen  and  appreciated,  there  would  be 
nothing  more  delightful  to  practise  towards 
those  we  love.  But  the  question  is,  does  it 


BEHAVIOR  TO  HUSBANDS. 


33 


tell  in  any  high  degree  upon  the  happiness 
of  man  ?  Observation  of  the  world  would 
lead  to  the  conclusion  that  it  does  not,  for 
where  one  husband's  heart  has  been  soften- 
ed with  gratitude  on  discovering  how  much 
his  wife  has  suffered  and  denied  herself  for 
his  sake,  ten  times  that  number  of  women 
have  been  wounded  to  the  very  soul  at  not 
having  their  acts  of  self-sacrifice  valued  ac- 
cording to  their  cost. 

The  fact  is,  men  in  general  do  not  see  these 
things,  unless  told  of  their  existence ;  and 
then  at  once  their  charm  is  destroyed.  Is  it 
not  better,  then,  to  be  a  little  more  sparing  of 
such  acts,  than  to  do  them,  and  then  grudge 
the  expenditure  of  feeling  they  require  ;  or  to 
do  them,  and  then  complain  of  the  punish- 
ment they  inflict  1  Besides  which,  some  luck- 
less women  go  on  in  this  way,  until  more  and 
more  is  expected  of  them ;  the  husband,  in 
his  ignorance  of  the  state  of  things  behind 
the  scenes,  never  dreaming  of  what  is  ac- 
tually suffered,  but  rather  proposing,  in  his 
innocence,  that  as  one  thing  has  been  so 
comfortably  given  up,  another  should  follow, 
until  at  last  there  bursts  upon  his  unhappy 
head  a  perfect  storm  of  feeling,  from  her  who 
would  willingly  have  been  a  martyr  for  his 
sake,  would  he  only  have  observed  and  pi- 
tied what  she  was  enduring  for  him. 

On  the  other  hand,  those  women  who 
calmly  and  equitably  maintain  their  rights, 
for  rights  all  women  have ;  who,  acting  upon 
the  broad  principle  of  yielding  what  is  due 
from  a  wife  to  a  husband,  make  a  clear  dis- 
tinction betwixt  that,  and  what  would  be  ex- 
pected by  a  tyrant  from  his  slave  ;  who  make 
themselves  cheerful  and  comfortable  with 
what  it  is  proper  for  them  to  enjoy,  neither 
withholding  what  they  ought  to  give  up,  nor 
giving  up  what  they  cannot  afford  to  lose 
such  women  are  upon  the  whole  to  be  pre 
ferred  as  companions,  and  certainly  they  are 
themselves  exempt  from  a  world  of  woundec 
feeling,  under  which  the  more  romantically 
generous  are  perpetually  suffering,  and  at  th 
same  time  weeping  and  lamenting  that  the) 
do  so. 

There  is,  however,  a  most  delicate  mediurr 


n  these  cases  to  be  observed,  for  when  once 
vomari  loses  the  disinterested  generosity  of 
her  character,  she  loses  her  greatest  charm ; 
nd  when  she  becomes  a  stickler  for  rights, 
or  a  monopolizer  of  good  things,  presuming 
upon  her  greater  requirements  as  being  a 
more  delicate  and  fragile  being  than  man, 
she  may  indeed  be  said  to  have  forfeited  all 
hat  claims  for  her  sex  our  interest  and  our 
admiration.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  though 
she  may  not  be  aware  of  it,  there  is  a  secret 
and  deep-seated  selfishness  in  the  wounded 
feeling  which  accompanies  a  generous  act, 
on  finding  it  not  valued  according  to  its  cost. 
Would  it  not  then  be  wise  to  let  this  maxim 
be  our  rule — that  none  should  give  up  more 
than  they  are  prepared  to  resign  without 
grudging,  whether  noticed  and  appreciated 
or  not 

In  my  remarks  upon  the  subject  of  self- 
sacrifice,  I  would,  of  course,  be  understood 
to  refer  only  to  those  trifling  and  familiar  af- 
fairs in  which  the  personal  comfort  of  daily 
life  is  concerned.  The  higher  and  more 
sacred  claims  of  trial  and  calamity  with 
which  the  experience  of  every  human  being 
is  occasionally  checkered,  admit  neither  of 
doubt,  calculation,  nor  delay.  Here  I  canno 
suppose  it  possible  that  a  true-hearted  woman 
would  feel  the  least  reserve,  for  here  it  is  her 
sacred  privilege  to  forget  herself,  to  count  no 
item  of  her  loss,  to  weigh  no  difficulty,  anc 
to  shrink  from  no  pain,  provided  she  can  suf 
fer  for,  or  even  with,  the  companion  whosi 
existence  is  bound  up  with  hers. 

Whatever  doubt  may  be  entertained  on  the 
subject  of  making  self,  and  selfish  gratifica 
tion,  subservient  to  a  husband's  tastes  am 
enjoyments,  in  all  the  little  items  of  domestic 
arrangement,  there  can  be  none  with  regard 
to  what  is  right  in  mixing  in  society  either 
with  friends  or  strangers.  It  is  here,  the 
privilege  of  a  married  woman  to  be  able  to 
show,  by  the  most  delicate  attentions,  how 
much  she  feels  her  husband's  superiority  to 
herself,  not  by  mere  personal  services  offi- 
ciously rendered,  as  if  for  the  purpose  of  dis- 
play, but  by  a  respectful  reference  to  his 
opinion,  a  willingly  imposed  silence  when  he 


;u 


THE  WIVES  OF  ENGLAND. 


speaks,  and,  if  he  be  an  enlightened  man,  by 
a  judicious  turn  sometimes  given  to  the  con- 
versation, so  that  his  information  and  intelli- 
gence may  be  drawn  forth  for  the  benefit  of 
others. 

It  is  true  that  a  considerable  portion  of  tact 
is  required  to  manage  such  matters  as  these, 
without  appearing  to  manage  them  at  all ;  for 
if  the  husband  is  once  made  to  suspect  that 
his-  wife  is  practising  upon  him  for  the  pur- 
pose of  showing  how  good  a  wife  she  is,  his 
situation  will  scarcely  be  more  agreeable  than 
that  of  the  man  who  is  made  ajnere  lackey 
of  in  company,  and  called  hither  and  thither 
to  do  little  personal  services  for  his  wife,  as 
if  she  had  mistaken  him  for  one  of  her  ser- 
vants, or,  what  is  more  likely,  had  chosen 
this  means  of  exhibiting  her  unbounded  in- 
fluence over  him. 

Both  these  extremes  are  at  variance  with 
good  taste,  to  say  nothing  of  right  feeling ; 
and  here,  as  in  innumerable  instances  besides, 
we  see,  that  if  the  tact  I  have  so  highly  re- 
commended in  a  previous  work,  be  valuable 
before  marriage,  it  is  infinitely  more  so  after- 
wards. Indeed  there  is  scarcely  one  among 
the  various  embellishments  of  female  charac- 
ter, not  even  the  highest  accomplishments 
exhibited  by  the  most  distinguished  belle, 
which  may  not,  in  some  way  or  other,  be 
rendered  a  still  more  exquisite  embellishment 
to  married  life,  provided  only  it  is  kept  in  its 
proper  place,  and  made  always  subservient 
to  that  which  is  more  estimable. 

Thus  the  most  fastidious  taste,  when  em- 
ployed in  selecting  what  is  agreeable  to  a 
husband's  fancy,  becomes  ennobled  to  its  pos- 
sessor ;  while  those  accomplishments,  which 
in  the  crowded  drawing-room  were  worse 
than  useless  in  their  display,  may  sometimes 
be  accounted  as  actual  wealth,  to  her  who 
has  the  good  feeling  to  render  them  condu- 
cive to  the  amusement  or  the  happiness  of 
her  own  fireside. 

On  the  other  hand,  it  is  painful  to  hear  the 
complaint  so  frequently  made  by  married  men, 
that  their  wives  have  ceased  to  touch  the  in- 
strument whose  keys  were  rendered  so  sweet- 
ly available  in  the  great  object  of  charming 


before  marriage ;  and,  did  not  kindness  or 
delicacy  forbid  a  further  disclosure  of  the  se- 
crets of  their  lot,  there  is  doubtless  a  still 
greater  number  who  could  speak  feelingly  of 
their  regret,  that  the  air  of  careful  neatness, 
the  becoming  dress,  and  the  general  attract- 
iveness of  look  and  manner,  which  first  won 
their  attention,  had  been  gradually  laid  aside, 
as  advancing  years  and  increasing  cares  had 
rendered  them  more  necessary  as  an  addi- 
tional charm  to  the  familiar  scenes  of  domes- 
tic life. 

Yet  in  spite  of  appearances,  it  is  scarcely 
possible  to  imagine  how  there  should  be,  in 
any  other  situation,  so  natural  and  so  delight- 
ful a  display  of  personal  attractions  as  at 
home,  and  before  the  one  being  whom  of  all 
the  world  we  love  best ;  especially  when  we 
reflect  that  his  destiny  being  bound  up  with 
ours,  if  we  allow  him  to  feel  weary  of  our 
company,  annoyed  by  our  absurdities,  or  dis- 
satisfied with  our  personal  appearance,  he 
must  at  the  same  time  suffer  doubly  from 
the  mortifying  conviction,  that  these  things 
are  to  remain  the  -same  to  him  throughout 
the  whole  of  his  future  life  or  ours. 

What  then  so  natural  and  so  congenial  to 
the  best  feelings  of  woman,  as  to  render  this 
long  future  as  pleasing  in  its  aspect  as  she 
can  1  and  what  so  degrading,  and  so  utterly 
at  variance  with  the  beauty  of  the  female 
character,  as,  having  once  secured  a  legal 
claim  to  the  protection  of  a  husband,  ever 
afterwards  to  neglect  those  personal  attrac- 
tions, which  comparatively  few  women  have 
to  be  charged  with  neglecting  in  their  single 
state  1  Yet  of  what  importance  is  it  to  the 
careless  observer  we  meet  with  in  general 
society,  how  we  dress,  or  whether  we  look 
well  or  ill,  compared  with  what  it  is  to  the 
man  who  has  to  see  us,  and  perhaps  us  alone, 
seated  opposite  to  him  at  every  meal !  Of 
what  importance  is  it  to  the  stranger  that  we 
play  badly,  or  do  not  play  at  all — that  we 
draw  Without  taste,  and  have  never  learned 
to  converse  with  sprightliness  and  ease  ]  His 
happiness  is  Vi  no  way  dependent  upon  us. 
He  can  turn  away,  and  forget  us  the  next 
moment.  But  the  case  assumes  a  widely 


BEHAVIOR  TO  HUSBANDS. 


35 


different  character,  when  we  look  at  it  as 
extending  through  each  separate  hour  of  a 
long  lifetime  ;  and  surely  if  there  be  a  natu- 
ral exultation  in  having  charmed  an  indiffer- 
ent person;  or  even  a  whole  party,  for  an 
hour,  there  must  be  a  higher,  and  far  more 
reasonable  satisfaction,  in  being  able  to  be- 
guile a  husband  of  his  cares,  to  win  him  from 
society  which  might  divert  his  thoughts  from 
home,  and  to  render  that  home,  not  only  the 
scene  of  his  duties,  but  of  his  favorite  amuse- 
ments, and  his  dearest  joys. 

To  this  high  purpose  every  intellectual  at- 
tainment should  also  be  made  conducive,  for 
there  is  much  in  the  life  of  men,  and  particu- 
larly where  business  engages  their  attention, 
to  lower  and  degrade  the  mind.  There  is 
much  to  render  it  purely  material  in  its  aims 
and  calculations ;  and  there  is  much  also,  in 
man's  public  intercourse  with  his  fellow-man, 
to  render  him  eager  and  monopolizing  in  that 
which  centres  in  himself;  while  at  the  same 
time  he  is  regardless  or  distrustful  of  others. 
As  a  rational,  accountable,  and  immortal  be- 
ing, he  consequently  needs  a  companion  who 
will  be  supremely  solicitous  for  the  advancfc- 
ment  of  his  intellectual,  moral,  and  spiritual 
nature;  a  companion  who  will  raise  the  tone 
of  his  mind  from  the  low  anxieties,  and  vulgar 
cares  which  necessarily  occupy  so  large  a 
portion  of  his  existence,  and  lead  his  thoughts 
to  expatiate  or  repose  on  those  subjects  which 
convey  a  feeling  of  identity  with  a  higher  state 
of  existence  beyond  this  present  life. 

Instead  of  this,  how  often  does  the  wife  re- 
ceive home  her  weary  husband,  to  render 
him  still  more  weary,  by  an  outpouring  of  all 
the  gossip  she  has  heard  through  the  day,  of 
the  observations  she  has  made  upon  her 
neighbor's  furniture  and  way  of  living,  of  the 
personal  attentions  or  slights  she  has  received, 
with  a  long  catalogue  of  complaints  against 
her  servants,  and,  worse  than  all,  ten  thou- 
sand reasons,  strengthened  by  that  day's  ex- 
perience, why  she  should  be  indulged~with 
some  favorite  article  of  dress  or  luxury,  upon 
which  her  heart  has  long  been  set ! 

It  may  be  said  in  vindication  of  this  mode 
of  conduct,  that  the  occupations  of  men  of 


business  in  the  present  day  are  such,  and  so 
pressing,  as  to  leave  them  little  time,  and  per- 
haps less  inclination,  for  interesting  them- 
selves in  subjects  of  apparently  less  urgent 
and  immediate  importance  ;  and  that,  con- 
sequently, all  endeavor  to  give  their  minds  a 
bias  in  favor  of  nobler  things,  would  be  un- 
availing. But  in  reply  to  this  observation,  I 
would  ask  one  question — Have  you  made  the 
experiment]  Have  you  ever  tried  whether 
the  introduction  of  a  new  idea,  appropriately 
and  agreeably  clothed,  might  not  be  made 
quite  as  agreeable  as  the  introduction  of  a 
new  article  of  diet,  even  dressed  with  the 
nicest  care?  Have  you  then  made  the  ex- 
periment judiciously  ?  for  here  lies  the  secret 
of  all  the  good  we  can  reasonably  expect 
If,  for  instance,  you  should  begin  to  talk  about 
the  stars,  when  your  husband  asks  for  his 
slippers,  or  quote  poetry  when  he  wants  his 
dinner,  the  boldest  enthusiast  would  scarcely 
be  wild  enough  to  anticipate  any  very  favor- 
able  result. 

The  first  thing  to  be  done  in  the  attainment 
of  this  high  object,  is  to  use  what  influence 
you  have  so  as  not  to  lower  or  degrade  the 
habitual  train  of  your  husband's  thoughts; 
and  the  next  is,  to  watch  every  eligible  op- 
portunity, and  to  use  every  suitable  means, 
of  leading  him  to  view  his  favorite  subjects 
in  their  broadest  and  most  expansive  light ; 
while,  at  the  same  time,  it  is  within  the  region 
of  woman's  capabilities,  to  connect  them,  by 
some  delicate  mode  of  association,  with  the 
general  bearing  of  a  man's  interests  in  this 
world  upon  his  interests  in  eternity. 

It  is  extremely  difficult  in  writing  on  this 
subject  to  convey  my  exact  meaning,  or  indeed 
to  avoid  the  charge  of  wishing  to  recommend, 
instead  of  pleasant,  easy,  fireside  chat,  the 
introduction  of  a  dull,  and  dry,  or  perhaps 
dogmatical  discourse,  than  which,  nothing 
can  be  more  opposed,  both  to  the  tastes  and 
the  habits  of  the  writer,  as  well  as  to  her 
ideas  of  the  nice  art  of  pleasing  and  doing 
good  at  the  same  time.  Indeed  that  mode 
of  conversation  which  I  have  been  accus- 
tomed to  describe  as  talking  on  a  large  scale, 
is,  except  on  very  important  occasions,  most 


36 


THE  WIVES  OF  ENGLAND. 


inimical  to  the  natural  softness  and  attrac- 
tiveness of  woman.  It  is  not,  in  fact,  her 
forte  ;  but  belongs  to  a  region  of  display  in 
which  she  cannot,  or  at  least  ought  not,  to 
shine.  The  excellence  of  woman  as  regards 
her  conversation,  consists  rather  of  quick,  and 
delicate,  and  sometimes  playful  turns  of 
thought,  with  a  lively  and  subtle  apprehension 
of  the  bearings,  tendencies,  and  associations  of 
ideas ;  so  that  the  whole  machinery  of  con- 
versation, if  I  may  be  allowed  to  use  such 
an  expression,  may  be  made,  by  her  good 
management,  to  turn  off  from  one  subject, 
and  play  upon  another,  as  if  by  the  direction 
of  some  magic  influence,  which  will  ever  be 
preserved  from  detection  by  the  tact  of  an 
unobtrusive  and  sensitive  nature. 

It  is  in  this  manner,  and  this  alone,  that 
women  should  evince  their  interest  in  those 
great  politioal  questions  which  arise  out  of 
the  state  of  the  times  in  which  they  live. 
Not  that  they  may  be  able  to  attach  them- 
selves to  a  party,  still  less  that  they  may 
make  speeches  either  in  public  or  in  private ; 
but  that  they  may  think  and  converse  like 
rational  beings  on  subjects  which  occupy  the 
attention  of  the  majority  of  mankind  ;  and  it 
is,  perhaps,  on  these  subjects  that  we  see  most 
strikingly  the  wide  difference  betwixt  the  low 
views  so  generally  taken,  and  those  which  I 
would  so  earnestly  recommend.  If,  for  exam- 
ple, a  wife  would  converse  with  her  husband 
about  a  candidate  for  the  representation  of  the 
place  in  which  they  live,  she  may,  if  she 
choose,  discuss  the  merits  of  the  color  which 
his  party  wears,  and  wish  it  were  some  other, 
as  being  more  becoming  ;  she  may  tell  with 
delight  how  he  bowed  especially  to  her ;  and 
she  may  wish  from  her  heart  that  the  num- 
ber of  votes  may  be  in  his  favor,  because  he 
kissed  her  child,  and  called  it  the  prettiest 
he  had  ever  seen.  It  is  this  kind  of  prattle 
which  may  properly  be  described  as  small 
talk,  and  which  it  is  to  be  feared  denotes  a 
littleness  of  soul.  Yet  this  style  of  talk  may 
be,  and  sometimes  is,  applied  by  women  to 
all  sorts  of  subjects,  not  excepting  politics, 
philosophy,  and  even  religion.  But,  on  the 
other  hand,  there  is  an  opposite  style  of  con- 


versation which  may  be  used  with  equal  scope 
of  application,  on  almost  all  subjects,  whether 
high  or  low:  and  it  is  a  truth  which  the 
peculiar  nature  of  woman's  mind  renders  her 
admirably  qualified  to  carry  out  through  ordi- 
nary life,  that  so  intimately  connected  are  our 
thoughts  and  feelings,  habits  and  pursuits,  not 
only  with  those  of  other  beings  of  a  similar 
nature,  but  with  a  state  of  existence  in  which 
that  common  nature  will  be  more  fully  de- 
veloped, that  there  is  scarcely  a  fact  presented 
to  our  knowledge,  which  has  not  a  connec- 
tion, either  immediate  or  remote,  with  some 
great  moral  truth ;  and  scarcely  a  subject 
brought  under  our  consideration,  which  may 
not  be  ennobled  by  conducing,  in  some  way 
or  other,  to  the  improvement  of  our  moral 
being. 

It  will  readily  be  perceived,  however,  that 
this  exercise  of  the  powers  of  conversation 
would  be  utterly  unattainable  to  a  woman  of 
ignorant  or  vulgar  mind — that  she  would 
alike  be  incapable  of  comprehending  the  de- 
sirableness of  the  object,  and  the  best  mode 
of  its  accomplishment.  And  here  I  would 
again  advert  to  an  expression  not  unfre- 
quently  heard  among  young  ladies,  that  they 
do  not  wish  to  be  clever ;  by  which  we  are 
left  to  suppose,  by  their  neglect  of  their  own 
minds,  that  they  mean  either  well-informed, 
or  capable  of  judging  rightly.  Yet  without 
having  paid  considerable  attention  to  the  im- 
provement and  cultivation  of  their  intellectual 
powers,  how  will  it  be  possible  for  them  to 
raise  the  general  tone  of  thought  and  con- 
versation at  their  own  fireside 1 

Although  I  am  not  one  of  those  who  at- 
tach any  high  degree  of  importance  to  the 
possession  of  great  intBllectual  endowments 
in  woman,  because  I  believe  such  natural 
gifts  to  have  proved  much  more  frequently 
her  bane  than  her  blessing,  and  because  they 
are  not  the  qualifications  of  female  character 
which  conduce  most  to  her  own  happiness 
or  the  happiness  of  those  around  her ;  yet 
if  there  be  any  case  in  which  a  woman  might 
be  forgiven,  for  entertaining  an  honest  pride 
in  the  superiority  of  her  own  talent,  it  would 
be  where  she  regarded  it  only  as  a  means 


BEHAVIOR  TO  HUSBANDS. 


37 


of  doing  higher  homage  to  her  husband,  and 
bringing  greater  ability  to  bear  upon  the 
advancement  of  his  intellectual  and  moral 
good. 

Indeed,  what  is  the  possession  of  talent  to 
a  woman,  when  considered  in  her  own  cha- 
racter, separately,  and  alone  ]  The  posses- 
sion of  a  dangerous  heritage — a  jewel  which 
cannot  with  propriety  be  worn — a  mine  of 
wealth  which  has  no  legitimate  channel  for 
the  expenditure  of  its  vast  resources.  But 
let  her  find  this  natural  and  lawful  medium 
for  its  exercise,  and  we  see  at  once  in  what 
an  enviable  position  she  is  placed.  We  see 
at  once  the  height  from  which  she  can  stoop, 
the  costliness  of  the  sacrifices  she  is  conse- 
quently enabled  to  make,  and  the  evidences, 
no  less  valuable,  which  she  can  thus  bring 
forward  as  proofs  of  her  affection. 

Nothing,  however,  can  be  more  delicate 
and  trying  than  the  situation  of  such  a  wo- 
man, and  especially  when  her  husband  is 
inferior  to  herself;  but  if  he  should  be  abso- 
lutely silly,  it  would  require  more  skill  than 
the  writer  of  these  pages  can  boast,  to  know 
what  mode  of  treating  him  to  recommend ; 
for  build  him  up  as  you  will  before  company, 
and  much  may  be  done  in  this  way  by  the 
exercise  of  delicacy  and  tact,  a  truly  grovel- 
ling man  will  sink  again,  and  there  is  no 
help  for  it.  The  charitable  conclusion  i? 
that  a  woman  so  situated  must  be  content 
to  reap  the  consequences  of  her  own  folly,  in 
having  made  so  unsuitable  a  choice.  The 
best  friend  on  earth  would  be  unable  to  as- 
sist her,  nor  could  the  sagest  counsel  rectify 
her  mistake. 

In  the  case  of  a  highly-gifted  woman,  even 
where  there  is  an  equal  or  superior  degree 
of  talent  possessed  by  her  husband,  nothing 
can  be  more  injudicious,  or  more  fatal  to  her 
happiness,  than  an  exhibition  even  of  the 
least  disposition  to  presume  upon  such  gifts. 
Let  her  husband  be  once  subjected  to  a  feel- 
ing of  jealousy  of  her  importance,  which, 
without  the  strictest  watchfulness,  will  be 
liable  to  arise,  and  her  peace  of  mind  and 
her  free  agency  are  alike  destroyed  for  the 
remainder  of  her  life ;  or  at  any  rate,  until 


she  can  convince  him  afresh,  by  a  long  con- 
tinuance of  the  most  scrupulous  conduct, 
that  the  injury  committed  against  him  was 
purely  accidental,  and  foreign  alike  to  her 
feelings  and  her  inclinations. 

Until  this  desirable  end  is  accomplished, 
vain  will  be  all  her  efforts  to  render  homage 
to  her  husband  as  a  superior.  He  will  re- 
gard all  such  attempts  as  acts  of  condescen- 
sion, assumed  for  no  other  purpose  than  that 
of  showing  how  gracefully  she  can  stoop. 
In  vain  may  she  then  endeavor  to  assist  or 
direct  his  judgment ;  he  will  in  such  a  case 
most  naturally  prefer  to  thwart  her,  for  the 
purpose  of  proving  his  own  independence 
and  his  power. 

The  same  observations  will  apply,  though 
in  a  milder  degree,  to  cases  in  which  there 
have  been  any  great  advantages  of  wealth 
or  station  on  the  side  of  the  wife.  The  most 
unselfish  and  generous  consideration,  ac- 
companied with  the  strictest  care,  are  neces- 
sary here  to  avoid  giving  occasion  of  offence 
to  that  manly  pride  which  startles  at  nothing 
so  much  as  owing  dignity  to  a  woman,  and 
being  reminded  of  the  obligation. 

But  if,  on  the  one  hand,  this  situation 
presents  a  narrow  and  critical  walk  with  re- 
gard to  action,  on  the  other,  it  affords  a 
boundless  and  delightful  field  in  which  feel- 
ing may  expatiate  ;  for  it  is  scarcely  possible 
to  imagine  any  consciousness  more  happy 
than  that  of  having  been  the  means  of  con- 
ferring affluence  or  honor  upon  the  being 
we  most  love :  and  if  the  consequences  are 
such  as  lead  to  a  trembling  apprehension  of 
being  perpetually  liable  to  give  pain,  they 
also  admit  of  a  noble  exultation  in  being  en- 
abled by  the  same  means  to  give  an  adequate 
degree  of  pleasure. 

With  this  feeling  subdued  by  Christian 
meekness,  and  cherished  only  in  her  "hear 
of  hearts,"  it  might  almost  be  forgiven  to  any 
woman  secretly  to  exult  in  being  favorably 
distinguished  ;  for  to  render  illustrious  a  be- 
loved name,  and  to  shed  a  glory  around  an 
honored  brow,  is  at  once  the  most  natural, 
and  the  noblest  ambition,  of  which  the  female 
,  mind  is  capable. 


38 


THE  WIVES  OF  EXGLA.M). 


In  order  to  render  more  clear  and  definite 
the  observations  which  have  been  called  Ibrth 
by  the  subject  of  this  chapter,  it  has  been  al- 
most necessary  to  act  the  ungracious  part  of 
pointing  out  instances  of  failure,  rather  than 
success.  This  has  been  done,  however,  with 
the  most  sincere  belief,  that  such  instances, 
notwithstanding  the  frequency  of  their  occur- 
rence, arise,  for  the  most  part,  entirely  out  of 
ignorance,  or  want  of  thought  and  observa- 
tion, and  are  as  frequently  accompanied  by 
an  amiable  and  praiseworthy  desire  to  be  in 
all  things,  such  a  friend  and  companion  as  a 
reasonable  husband  would  wish. 

And  after  all,  what  is  it  that  man  seeks  in 
the  companionship  of  woman  ? — An  influ- 
ence like  the  gentle  dew,  and  the  cheering 
light,  more  felt  throughout  the  whole  of  his 
existence,  in  its  softening,  healing,  harmon- 
izing power;  than  acknowledged  by  any  sin- 
gle act,  or  recognised  by  any  certain  rule. 
It  is  in  fact  a  being  to  come  home  to,  in  the 
happiest  sense  of  that  expression. 

Poetic  lays  of  ancient  times  were  wont  to 
tell,  how  the  bold  warrior  returning  from  the 
fight  would  doff  his  plumed  helmet,  and,  re- 
posing from  his  toils,  lay  bare  his  weary 
limbs,  that  woman's  hand  might  pour  into 
their  wounds  the  healing  balm.  But  never 
wearied  knight,  nor  warrior  covered  with 
the  dust  of  battle-field,  was  more  in  need  of 
woman's  soothing  power,  than  are  those 
care-worn  sons  of  toil,  who  struggle  for  the 
bread  of  life,  in  our  more  peaceful  and  en- 
lightened days.  And  still,  though  the  ro- 
mance of  the  castle,  the  helmet,  the  waving 
plume,  and  the 

"  Clarion  wild  and  high," 

may  all  have  vanished  from  the  scene ;  the 
charm  of  woman's  influence  lives  as  brightly 
in  the  picture  of  domestic  joy,  as  when  she 
placed  the  wreath  of  victory  on  the  hero's 
brow.  Nay,  more  so,  for  there  are  deeper 
sensibilities  at  work,  thoughts  more  profound, 
and  passions  more  intense,  in  our  great 
theatre  of  intellectual  and  moral  strife ;  than 
where  the  contest  was  for  martial  fame,  and 
force  of  arms  procured  for  each  competitor 
his  share  of  glory,  or  of  wealth. 


Amongst  all  the  changes  which  have  taken 
place  in  the  condition  of  mankind,  it  is  then 
not  the  least  of  woman's  privileges,  that  her 
influence  remains  the  same,  except  only  as 
it  is  deepened  and  perfected  as  her  own 
character  approaches  towards  perfection.  It 
is  not  the  least  of  her  privileges,  that  she  can 
still  be  all  to  man  which  his  necessities  re- 
quire ;  that  he  can  retire  from  the  tumult  of 
the  world,  and  seek  her  society  with  a  zest 
which  nothing  can  impair,  so  long  as  she  re- 
ceives him  with  a  true  and  faithful  heart — 
true  to  the  best  and  kindest  impulses  of 
which  her  nature  is  capable ;  and  faithful  to 
the  sacred  trust  committed  to  her  care. 

And  that  it  is  so,  how  many  an  English 
home  can  witness — how  many  a  fireside 
welcome — how  many  a  happy  meeting  after 
absence  painfully  prolonged  !  Yes,  there  are 
scenes  within  the  sacred  precincts  of  the 
household  hearth,  which,  not  the  less  be- 
cause  no  stranger's  eye  beholds  them,  repay, 
and  richly  too,  dark  days  of  weary  conflict, 
and  long  nights  of  anxious  care.  But  who 
shall  paint  them  7  Are  they  not  graven  on 
the  hearts  of  English  wives?  and  those  who 
hold  the  picture  there,  in  all  its  beauty,  vivid- 
ness, and  truth,  would  scarcely  wish  to  draw 
aside  the  veil,  which  screens  it  from  the  world. 


CHAPTER  V. 

CONFIDENCE  AND   TRUTH. 

WITH  regard  to  the  behavior  of  wives  to- 
wards their  husbands,  there  is  one  great  end 
to  be  attained,  so  unmeasurably  beyond  all 
others  in  its  influence  upon  their  happiness 
and  their  usefulness,  that  all  which  is  requi- 
site for  the  promotion  of  their  true  interest, 
might  be  summed  up  in  this  one  recommend- 
ation— that  the  wife  should  endeavor,  before 
every  other  earthly  thing,  and  next  to  the 
salvation  of  her  soul,  to  obtain  and  keep  her 
husband's  confidence.  Without  this,  the 
marriage  tie  is  indeed  a  galling  chain ;  and 
the  woman  who  sul'jects  herself  to  it,  less  en- 
viable than  a  real  slave.  With  this — with 


BEHAVIOR  TO  HUSBANDS. 


39 


he  perfect  trust  of  ajiobler  nature  reposing 
on  her  own,  woman  is  raised  to  a  degree  of 
moral  elevation,  which,  in  her  single  state, 
she  never  could  have  known  ;  and  if  her 
own  disposition  be  generous  and  grateful,  she 
•will  feel  it  a  sacred  obligation  not  to  abuse 
this  trust. 

But  the  great  and  important  question  arises, 
low  is  this  trust  to  be  secured1!  With  the 
most  ardent  desire  to  enjoy  this,  the  chief 
good  of  married  life,  and  the  foundation  up- 
on which  all  its  happiness  must  rest,  there 
are  two  ways  in  which  woman  may  effectu- 
ally fail — intellectually,  and  morally.  In  the 
first,  she  may  fail  from  want  of  knowledge  ; 
in  the  second,  from  want  of  principle. 

In  the  first  instance,  whatever  there  may 
be  in  her  conduct  or  conversation  exhibiting 
a  want  of  judgment,  of  that  perception  of 
fitness  and  adaptation,  which  is  invaluable  in 
the  female  character,  and  of  a  proper  ac- 
quaintance with  common  things,  is  calculated 
to  weaken  the  confidence  of  her  husband  in 
her  ability,  whatever  her  inclination  may  be, 
to  make  a  good  wife,  a  prudent  mistress,  or 
a  judicious  mother.  It  is  in  vain  complain- 
ing that  this  sentence  is  a  hard  one,  when 
her  heart  is  right,  and  when  she  really  does 
her  best.  It  is  in  vain  complaining  that  her 
husband  does  not  trust  her,  either  with  the 
knowledge  of  his  affairs,  or  the  management 
of  her  own.  Confidence  in  one  being  is  not 
a  matter  of  choice  in  another.  It  is  what  we 
ourselves  must  purchase  by  an  absence  of 
failure  on  those  points,  in  which  the  interests 
of  another  party  are  dependent  upon  us. 

If,  then,  a  husband  finds  in  his  wife  a  de- 
gree of  ignorance  which  renders  her  incapa- 
ble of  judging  rightly  in  common  things,  if 
he  finds  that  she  has  never  made  any  proper 
use  of  her  powers  of  observation,  that  she 
has  not  been  in  the  habit  of  thinking  to  any 
rational  purpose,  of  discriminating,  compar- 
ing, or  drawing  right  conclusions  from  what 
she  has  seen  and  heard,  it  would  be  hard  in- 
deed to  require  him  to  believe  that  she  will 
act  with  prudence  and  propriety  as  the  mis- 
tress of  a  house;  and  the  natural  conse- 
quence is,  that  she  must  be  watched,  sus- 


pected^jind  in  some  degree  treated  as  a 
child. 

If,  therefore,  in  a  previous  work  I  have 
earnestly  recommended  to  the  Daughters  of 
England  an  early,  and  diligent  cultivation  of 
their  mental  powers,  it  has  not  been  that  such 
mbellishments  of  character  as  are  classed 
under  the  head  of  "Cleverness,  Learning, 
and  Knowledge,"  or  "  Taste,  Tact,  and  Ob- 
servation,"  should  merely  give  zest  to  con- 
versation, or  throw  an  intellectual  charm 
over  the  society  of  the  drawing-room ;  it  is 
that  the  happy  individual  who  possesses 
these  advantages,  may,  on  becoming  a  wife, 
become  also  a  companion  injwhom  her  hus- 
band  can  perfectly,  and  at  all  times,  confide. 
There  are,  however,  cases  in  which  the 
want  of  this  confidence  falls  hardly,  because 
it  is  the  inevitable  result  of  circumstances, 
over  which  the  wife  in  her  single  state  had 
no  control.  One  of  these  is  where  the  mind 
is  naturally  weak ;  and  here  the  wife  would 
certainly  act  most  wisely,  by  placing  her  ac- 
tions and  opinions  under  the  direction  of  her 
husband,  and  allowing  herself  to  be  treated 
accordingly. 

But  there  arc  also  those,  -who,  from  no 
fault  of  their  own,  have,  before  marriage,  en- 
joyed few  advantages  as  regards  mental  cul- 
tivation. In  this  case,  much  may  be  done  in 
the  way  of  making  up  for  loss  time  ;  and 
where  a  studious  desire  to  do  so  is  evinced, 
where  a  respectful  and  judicious  reference  to 
the  husband's  opinion  is  sometimes  made, 
and  at  other  times  a  still  more  judicious  si- 
lence observed,  these  proofs  of  good  sense 
and  right  feeling,  will  go  a  long  way  towards 
obtaining  the  confidence  desired. 

But  a  far  more  serious,  and  it  is  to  be 
feared  more  frequent  reason  for  the  loss  of 
this  invaluable  treasure,  is  a  moral  one.  And 
here,  so  many  causes  meet  and  combine  in 
their  operation,  that  it  would  require  no  com- 
mon degree  of  knowledge  of  the  human 
heart  to  be  able  to  point  them  out  with  per- 
spicuity and  effect.  The  first  thing  I  shal 
specify  in  relation  to  this  part  of  the  subjec 
is,  the  essential  importance  there  is,  tha 
every  husband  should  feel  himself  perfectly 


40 


THE  WIVES  OF  ENGLAND. 

\ 


safe  with  his  wife.  "  Safe !"  exclaims  the 
worthy  helpmeet,  "with  whom  could  he  be 
safe,  if  not  with  me?  Do  I  not  watch  him, 
care  for  him,  and  wait  upon  him  with  a  so- 
licitude that  would  screen  him  from  every 
approach  of  harm  1"  All  this  may  be  true 
enough,  and  yet  you  may  occasionally  have 
taken  advantage  of  your  intimacy,  for  dis- 
closing weaknesses  on  his  part,  which  need  not 
otherwise  have  been  known ;  you  may  have 
marked  your  occasion  when  company  was 
present,  for  throwing  out  hints  against  him, 
which  you  dared  not  have  uttered  when 
alone ;  or  jou  may  have  betrayed  an  evident 
triumph  before  your  friends,  or  your  servants, 
on  obtaining  over  him  some  advantage  in 
opinion,  or  argument 

Although  such  offences  as  these  may  ap- 
pear but  very  trifling  items,  when  separately 
enumerated,  yet  their  number  and  variety 
sometimes  make  up  a  sum  of  considerable 
magnitude  and  importance,  as  they  operate 
upon  individual  feeling,  and  evince  too  clear- 
ly a  want  of  delicacy,  generosity,  or  real  af- 
fection. They  lead,  in  sfcort,  to  the  very 
natural  feeling,  on  the  part  of  the  husband, 
that  his  wife  is  not  the  bosom  friend  he  had 
fondly  imagined  her,  that  she  knows  no  per- 
fect identity  of  self  with  him,  but  has  sepa- 
rate interests  to  which  he  and  his  affairs  are 
liable  at  any  time  to  be  made  subservient 

I  have  already  said,  that  the  dignity  of 
man  should  always  be  studiously  maintained ; 
but  there  is  also  a  delicate  and  respectful 
manner  of  giving  way  to  a  husband  in  little 
things,  which  is  the  surest  means  of  obtaining 
concessions  on  his  part,  in  those  which  are 
of  greater  moment,  simply  because,  having 
found  his  wife  generally  yielding,  considerate, 
and  respectful  to  his  wishes,  he  cannot  sup- 
pose she  will  differ  from  him  without  some 
good  and  sufficient  reason  for  doing  so. 

Upon  the  same  principle,  a  wise  woman 
will  never  be  too  requiring.  She  will  neither 
demand  from  her  husband  those  personal 
services  which  are  degrading  to  a  man  and  a 
gentleman,  nor  weary  his  patience  by  en- 
deavoring to  tease  him  out  of  every  fault ; 
for  though  the  great  end  of  marriage  should 


be  mutual  improvement,  it  is  no  more  than 
fair,  that  the  wife  should  allow  her  husband 
at  least  as  many  faults  as  he  allows  her.  At 
all  events,  when  little  defects  of  character, 
and  especially  such  as  may  be  called  consti- 
tutional, are  quietly  and  charitably  borne 
with,  much  strength  is  gained  for  making  a 
stand  against  those  which  are  more  serious  ; 
and  the  husband  who  is  kindly  permitted  to 
rest  himself,  if  he  chooses,  in  an  awkward 
position,  and  to  wear  an  unbecoming  coat  be- 
cause it  is  a  favorite,  will  be  all  the  more 
likely,  at  the  solicitation  of  his  wife,  to  give 
up  habits  which  are  really  more  objection- 
able. 

All  individual  peculiarities,  which  may  not 
exactly  be  called  faults,  should  be  conceded 
to  in  the  same  manner ;  always  remembering, 
that  what  we  allow  to  men  on  the  ground  of 
their  love  of  importance  and  authority,  they 
equal,  and  often  surpass,  in  what  they  yield 
to  our  weakness,  incapacity,  and  occasional 
perverseness.  There  are  many  of  these  pecu- 
liarities, that,  like  our  own,  might  excite  a  de- 
gree of  ridicule,  which,  however,  ought  never 
to  extend  beyond  mere  playfulness,  and  not 
even  so  far  as  that,  except  where  it  is  re- 
ceived in  the  same  spirit 

If  it  were  possible  to  whisper  upon  paper, 
I  should  here  avail  myself  of  a  convenient 
aside,  to  hint  that  there  is  often  a  great  deal 
of  unnecessary  bustle  and  importance  when 
men  have  any  thing  to  do.  But  why  should 
we  mind  that — why  should  we  not  allow 
them  the  satisfaction  of  feeling,  that  as  re- 
gards the  little  world  in  which  they  rule  su- 
premely, all  space  is  theirs,  and  all  time  ? 
and  if  we  have  not  patience  to  look  on,  and 
see  the  order  of  our  house  overturned,  our 
dinner  waiting,  our  servants,  called  away 
from  their  work,  one  to  fetch  paper,  another 
string,  and  a  third  to  wait  until  the  mighty 
affair  is  complete ;  we  have  at  least  the  ad- 
vantage, when  the  same  thing  has  to  be  done 
again,  of  taking  the  opportunity  to  do  it  our- 
selves. 

A  respectful  deportment,  and  a  complying 
disposition,  evinced  in  these  and  similar 
cases,  with  a  general  willingness  to  accom- 


CONFIDENCE  AND  TRUTH. 


41 


modate  all  household  arrangements  to  a  hus- 
band's wishes,  making  every  other  consider- 
ation subservient  to  his  convenience,  will  en- 
sure for  the  wife,  who  consistently  does  this, 
a  large  portion  of  that  confidence  upon  which 
her  influence  and  her  happiness  so  much  de- 
pend. 

But  the  greatest  of  all  claims  upon  this 
confidence  has  yet  to  be  considered ;  and 
would  there  were  no  occasion,  in  relation  to 
this  subject,  so  much  as  to  whisper  these 
words  into  the  ear  of  an  English  wife — Never 
deceive  !  Were  all  men  reasonable,  tempta- 
tions to  do  so  would  be  infinitely  less  than 
they  are  ;  for  difficult  indeed  is  the  lot  of  that 
woman,  who  would  act  uprightly,  whose 
judgment  and  principles  are  good,  and  who 
is  yet  thwarted  by  a  narrow-minded,  weak, 
selfish,  or  low-principled  man. 

Let  us  imagine  the  case  of  such  a  wife,  so 
situated  that  her  lord  is  absent  for  the  greater 
part  of  every  day.  Let  us  imagine  her,'  too, 
surrounded  by  a  family,  having  the  interests 
of  children,  servants,  and  dependents  to  care 
for,  and  anxious  to  regulate  the  affairs  of  her 
household  according  to  the  principles  of  jus- 
tice and  integrity.  She  has  her  own  con- 
science for  her  guide  in  all  this,  and  if  it  be 
an  enlightened  one,  how  is  she  to  make  all 
her  actions  accord  with  the  views  of  a  hus- 
band, who  is  unenlightened,  perverse,  or  par- 
tial, and  perhaps  jealous  of  her  influence,  and 
consequently  determined  to  thwart  her  plans'? 
Yet  how  is  she  decidedly  to  oppose  his 
wishes,  consistently  with  the  respect  which  is 
due  from  a  wife  1 

Surely  the  situation  of  such  a  woman, 
could  it  be  contemplated  in  all  its  difficulties, 
and  under  all  its  gloomy  shades,  might  be 
sufficient  to  deter  any  one  whose  married 
lot  was  not  yet  fixed,  from  risking  her  happi- 
ness with  such  a  man. 

If  a  woman  thus  situated,  could  by  any 
honest  means  contrive  to  manage  her  hus- 
band, so  that  he  should  not  know  it,  I  think 
the  wisest  advocate  for  the  supremacy  of  the 
loftier  sex,  would  scarcely  deny  her  such  a 
privilege  ;  and  unquestionably  there  are  cases 
in  which  unreasonable  husbands  are  made 


both  happier  and  better,  by  being  thus  man- 
aged. Besides,  the  general  order  of  a  house- 
hold, the  direction  of  servants,  and  the  influ- 
ence of  masters  and  mistresses  over  their  de- 
pendents and  inferiors,  require  that  if  good 
sense,  right  feeling,  and  sound  principles, 
exist  on  one  side,  they  should  not  be  made 
subservient  to  ignorance,  prejudice,  and  ca- 
price, on  the  other. 

I  have  said  that  all  women  have  their 
rights,  and  it  would  be  wise  to  begin  early  in 
married  life  to  act  upon  the  principle,  which 
allows  to  every  wife  a  little  sphere  of  domes- 
tic arrangements,  with  which  the  husband 
shall  not  feel  that  he  has  any  business  to  in- 
terfere, except  at  her  request,  and  into  which 
a  reasonable  man  would  riot  wish  to  obtrude 
his  Authority,  simply  because  the  operations 
necessary  to  be  carried  on  in  that  department 
of  his  household,  are  alike  foreign  to  his  un- 
derstanding and  his  tastes.  To  submit  every 
little  act  of  domestic  management  to  the  opin- 
ion of  a  husband,  would  be  unquestionably 
to  have  one  half  of  them  at  least  either  de- 
feated in  their  object,  or  immediately  inter- 
dicted, from  no  other  reason  than  pure  ignor- 
ance of  their  nature,  cause,  and  effect.  Thus, 
unless  a  husband  can  feel  sufficient  confidence 
in  his  wife,  to  allow  her  to  rule  with  undis- 
puted authority  in  this  little  sphere,  her  case 
must  be  a  pitiable  one  indeed. 

I  have  repeated  the  word  little,  because  I 
believe  it  is  from  an  ambitious  desire  to  ex- 
tend the  limits  of  this  sphere,  that  many  have 
brought  trouble  upon  themselves,  by  having 
their  authority  called  in  question,  mpre  than 
it  ever  would  have  been,  had  they  remained 
satisfied  with  a  narrower  field  for  its  exercise. 

But  delicacy,  and  strict  fairness,  are  both 
required  on  the  part  of  the  wife,  to  ensure  to 
herself  this  desirable  allowance  of  free  agency, 
for  she  must  remember,  that  her  husband  has 
also  his  appropriate  sphere  of  action,  and  a 
much  more  extensive  one  than  hers,  in  which 
she  has  no  right  to  interfere,  because,  as  in 
the  case  already  stated,  she  is  incapable  of 
understanding  what  is  necessary  there ;  and 
if  on  both  sides  there  should  be  the  exercise 
of  this  delicacy  and  fairness,  in  avoiding  all 


42 


THE   WIVES  OF  ENGLAND. 


assumption  of  a  right  which  does  not  exist, 
it  is  impossible  but  that  real  affection  should 
dictate  the  mutual  development  of  much,  if 
not  all,  which  could  interest  the  feelings  of 
either  party. 

Thus,  there  need  be  no  positive  conceal- 
ment, for  that  is  the  last  thing  I  would  re- 
commend ;  but  an  open,  honest,  straightfor- 
ward way  of  acting,  as  if  each  mind  depended 
upon  the  other,  less  for  assistance  in  its  own 
sphere,  than  for  perfect  propriety  of  feeling, 
and  constant  adherence  to  principle,  in  the 
sphere  to  which  it  more  properly  belonged. 

It  is  upon  a  right  observance  of  distinctions 
such  as  these,  that  the  dignity  and  usefulness 
of  the  marriage  state  in  a  great  degree  de- 
pend— from  remembering  that  principle  must 
ever  be  the  foundation  of  action ;  but  that 
the  open  disclosure  of  every  act  and  purpose, 
must  ever  be  a  matter  of  choice ;  and  if  re- 
garded as  such,  there  will  be  no  doubt  but 
mutual  love  will  supply  information  enough 
to  satisfy  the  most  unbounded  curiosity. 
Thus  it  has  never  appeared  to  me,  that  the 
free  agency  which  a  judicious  wife  should  be 
permitted  to  enjoy  in  her  own  department, 
had  any  thing  to  do  with  concealment ;  any 
more  than  that  the  transactions  in  one  public 
office  should  be  said  to  be  concealed  from 
another,  because  each  had  its  separate  rooms 
and  officers.  So  far  from  this,  I  should  rather 
say  that  a  generous  nature,  and  especially 
that  of  woman,  when  implicitly  trusted  to, 
and  made  to  feel  that  trust,  will,  from  a  sense 
of  grateful  satisfaction,  involuntarily  disclose 
its  every  plan,  purpose,  and  act,  not  even 
throwing  a  veil  over  its  many  failures  and 
short-comings  in  the  way  of  discretion  or  duty. 

Indeed,  so  powerful  in  its  influence  upon 
the  female  character,  is  this  feeling  of  being 
trusted,  that  I  have  often  thought  if  man 
could  know  the  heart  of  woman  better,  he 
might  almost  guide  it  to  his  pleasure,  by  sim- 
.ply  using  this  master-key  -to  her  gratitude 
and  generosity.  But  I  must  not  forget,  that 
my  business  is  with  the  behavior  of  wives  to 
their  husbands,  not  with  that  far  easier  sub- 
ject in  a  female  hand,  the  behavior  of  hus- 
bands to  their  wivee. 


Among  other  points  of  consideration,  com- 
prehended under  the  general  head  of  confi- 
dence towards  wives,  there  is  one  of  such 
paramount  importance  to  the  rectitude  of 
woman's  conduct  in  her  domestic  affairs,  that 
were  this  one  consideration  all  which  had  to 
be  taken  into  account,  it  would  of  itself  be 
well  worth  every  endeavor  to  ensure  so  de- 
sirable an  end.  I  mean  the  open  communi- 
cation of  the  state  of  the  husband's  pecuniary 
circumstances  to  his  wife ;  for  I  can  scarcely 
imagine  any  thing  more  congenial  to  the  best 
feelings  of  a  faithful  wife,  than  to  be  made 
the  partaker  of  all  the  interest  and  enjoyment 
her  husband  derives  from  prosperity  and  suc- 
cess ;  while,  on  the  other  hand,  there  is  no 
greater  cruelty,  than  that  of  allowing  a  wo- 
man of  good  principles  and  right  feelings,  to 
go  on  ignorantly  conducting  her  household 
expenses,  in  a  manner  inconsistent  with  the 
real  state  of  his  affairs,  when  they  are  in  any 
degree  depressed  or  involved  in  difficulty. 

Yet  how  often  has  this  been  the  case ! 
How  often  has  an  honest-hearted  woman  had 
to  bear  the  charge  of  having  been  in  reality 
dishonest  to  her  husband's  creditors,  when 
ignorance,  not  want  of  principle,  was  the 
cause !  Besides  which,  how  much  may  be 
done  by  domestic  economy,  and  by  a  consist- 
ently meek  and  unpretending  deportment, 
if  not  exactly  to  avert  the  calamity  of  a  ruin- 
ed house,  at  least  to  alleviate  the  wounded 
and  bitter  feelings  which  naturally  arise 
among  those  who  are  the  greatest  sufferers. 

The  present  day  is  one  which  claims  pecu- 
liar attention  to  this  subject ;  and  if  from  any 
fault  in  the  wife,  from  any  betrayal  of  her 
husband's  secrets,  any  artifice  or  trickery 
practised  against  himself,  any  assumption 
of  unbecoming  importance  on  her  part,  any 
want  of  consideration  for  his  feelings,  or  fool- 
ish and  presumptuous  interference  with  mat- 
ters peculiarly  his  own — if  from  any  of  these 
causes,  she  has  shut  herself  out  from  his  con- 
fidence, now,  before  it  shall  be  too  late,  is  the 
time  to  begin  a  new  system  of  behavior,  for 
which  she  may  eventually  be  rewarded  by 
being  admitted  into  his  bosom-counsels,  and 
thus  allowed  to  share,  not  onlv  in  all  the 


CONFIDENCE  AND  TRUTH. 


hopes  and  fears  arising  out  of  the  fluctua- 
ting nature  of  pecuniary  affairs ;  but  also  in 
those  nobler  acts  of  self-denial,  which  accom- 
pany sound  and  enlightened  views  of  the  re- 
quirements of  justice,  in  all  transactions  of 
a  pecuniary  character. 

What,  then,  of  such  importance  as  to  ob- 
tain the  perfect  and  confiding  trust  of  the 
companion  with  whom,  or  for  whom,  you 
have  to  act  in  every  thing  you  do  1  and  in 
order  to  this  happy  attainment,  nothing  is  so 
essential  as  that  you  should  yourself  be  true. 

There  is  a  spirit  of  truth  and  a  spirit  of 
falsehood,  pervading  many  of  those  actions, 
which  could  not  be  said  to  be  either  true  or 
false  in  themselves.  Yet,  according  to  the 
choice  we  make  betwixt  these,  our  behavior 
will  be  upright,  candid,  generous,  and  free ; 
or  it  will  be  servile,  artful,  selfish,  and. cow- 
ardly. It  does  not  follow,  in  order  to  practise 
falsehood,  that  we  must  deviate  from  the  ex- 
act letter  of  truth.  There  are  methods  of 
deceiving,  as  many,  and  as  various,  as  the 
circumstances  which  checker  our  experience 
every  day ;  and  if  a  conscientious  adherence 
to  truth  is  not  made  the  rule  of  daily  life,  one 
act  of  duplicity  will  grow  out  of  another,  un- 
til the  whole  conduct  becomes  a  tissue  of  ar- 
tifice and  deceit. 

The  first  and  most  innocent  step  towards 
falsehood  is  concealment  Before  our  com- 
mon acquaintances,  there  is  wisdom  in  prac- 
tising concealment  to  a  certain  extent;  but 
where  the  intimacy  is  so  great,  the  identity 
so  close,  as  between  a  husband  and  a  wife, 
concealment  becomes  a  sort  of  breach  of 
faith ;  and  with  parties  thus  situated,  the 
very  act  of  concealment  can  only  be  kept  up 
by  a  series  of  artful  endeavors  to  ward  off 
suspicion  or  observation  of  the  thing  con- 
cealed. 

Now,  when  a  husband  discovers,  as  in  all 
probability  he  will,  unless  these  endeavors 
are  carried  out  to  a  very  great  extent — when 
he  discovers  that  his  wife  has  been  conceal- 
ing one  thing  from  him,  he  very  naturally 
supposes  that  she  has  concealed  many  more ; 
and  his  suspicions  will  be  awakened  in  pro- 
portion. It  will  then  be  in  vain  to  assure 


him  that  your  motive  was  good,  that  what 
you  did  was  only  to  spare  him  pain,  or  afford 
him  pleasure ;  he  will  feel  that  the  very  act 
is  one  which  has  set  him  apart  in  his  own 
house  as  a  stranger,  rather  than  a  guardian 
there — an  enemy,  rather  than  a  friend. 

Why  then  should  you  begin  with  conceal- 
ment 1  The  answer,  it  is  to  be  feared,  is  but 
too  familiar — "  My  husband  is  so  unreason- 
able." And  here  then  we  see  again  the  great 
advantage  of  choosing  as  a  companion  for 
life,  a  reasonable  man,  who  may  with  safety 
and  satisfaction  be  made  acquainted  with 
every  thing  you  think  or  do. 

After  concealment  has  been  habitually  prac- 
tised, there  follows,  in  order  to  escape  detec- 
tion, a  system  of  false  pretences,  assumed 
appearances,  and  secret  schemes,  as  much 
at  variance  with  the  spirit  of  truth,  as  the 
most  direct  falsehood,  and  unquestionably  as 
debasing  to  the  mind. 

But,  as  an  almost  inevitable  consequence, 
next  follows  falsehood  itself;  for  what  wo- 
man would  like  her  husband  to  know  that 
she  had,  for  days,  months,  or  years,  been 
practising  upon  his  credulity.  If  he  discov- 
ers what  she  has  been  concealing,  he  will 
also  discover,  that  often  when  the  subject 
was  alluded  to,  she  artfully  evaded  his  ques- 
tions by  introducing  another  ;  that  sometimes 
she  so  managed  her  voice  as  to  convey  one 
idea,  while  she  expressed  another ;  and  that 
at  other  times  she  absolutely  looked  a  lie. 
No,  she  cannot  bear  that  he  should  look  back 
and  see  all  this,  lest  he  should  despise  her ; 
and,  therefore,  in  some  critical  moment,  when 
brought  into  that  trying  situation  in  which 
she  must  either  confess  all,  or  deny  all,  she 
pronounces  at  last  that  fatal  word,  which 
effectually  breaks  asunder  the  spiritual  bond 
of  married  love. 

And  now,  it  is  scarcely  possible  to  imagine 
a  more  melancholy  situation  than  that  of  a 
weak  and  helpless  woman,  separated  by  false- 
hood from  all  true  fellowship,  either  human  or 
divine;  for  there  is  no  fellowship  in  false- 
hood. The  very  soul  of  disunion  might 
justly  be  said  to  be  embodied  in  a  lie.  It  is 
in  fact  the  sudden  breaking  asunder  of  that 


-14 


THE  WIVES  OF  ENGLAND. 


great  chain  which  connects  together  all 
spiritual  influences ;  and  she  who  is  guilty 
of  falsehood,  must  necessarily  be  alone; — 
alone,  for  she  has  no  sympathy  of  feeling 
with  the  beautiful  creation  around  her,  of 
which  it  has  truly  been  said,  that  "  Nature 
never  deceives ;" — alone,  for  in  that  higher 
world,  where  all  her  secret  thoughts  and  acts 
are  registered,  its  very  light  is  truth ; — alone, 
for  she  has  voluntarily  become  a  stranger,  a 
suspected  thing,  an  enemy,  to  that  one  friend 
in  whose  bosom  she  might  have  found  shelter 
and  repose. 

It  is  a  fact  which  scarcely  needs  to  be  re- 
peated, that  the  closer  the  intimacy,  and  the 
more  important  the  trust,  the  greater  is  the 
individual  injury,  and  consequently  the  viola- 
tion of  personal  feeling,  when  that  trust  is 
abused.  Thus  when  the  child  is  first  made 
to  understand  that  it  has  been  deceived  by 
its  mother,  the  very  life  of  its  little  soul  seems 
for  a  moment  to  be  quenched.  When  the 
father  finds  that  his  prodigal  son  has  but 
returned  to  take  advantage  of  his  affection 
and  credulity,  his  wounded  spirit  sinks,  and 
his  woary  heart  is  broken.  But  when  the 
husband  looks  with  earnest  eyes  into  the 
countenance  whose  beauty  was  once  his 
sunshine ;  when  memory  flies  back,  and 
brings  again  her  plighted  vow,  with  all  its 
treasury  of  truth ;  when  he  thinks  of  that 
fond  heart  which  seemed  to  cling  to  his  in 
all  the  guileless  innocence  of  unsophisticated 
youth — oh,  it  is  horrible  "to  be  discarded 
thence,"  by  the  dark  demon  of  distrust,  per- 
petually reminding  him,  that  the  bright  and 
sunny  tide  of  early  love,  upon  which  he 
trusted  all  the  riches  of  his  soul,  is  but  a 
smiling  and  deceitful  ocean,  whose  glassy 
surface  at  once  reflects  the  hues  of  heaven, 
and  conceals  the  depths  of  hell. 
>  It  is  impossible  to  speak  in  language  ade- 
quate to  the  importance  of  this  cause,  for  by 
failure  in  this  one  point,  the  whole  fabric  of 
connubial  affection,  which  might  otherwise 
be  made  so  influential  in  the  promotion  of 
every  kind  of  good,  becomes  a  heap  of  ruins, 
as  disgraceful  to  the  deceiver  as  unsightly  to 
the  deceived. 


Yet,  after  all,  is  not  the  former  the  greater 
sufferer  of  the  two  1  Is  it  not  more  miserable 
to  be  thus  separated  from  all  community  of 
thought  and  feeling,  either  earthly  or  divine, 
than  to  be  the  mere  dupe  of  treachery  ox 
guile  ?  Yes,  and  she  feels  it  so,  and  out  of 
her  very  desolation,  sometimes  awakes  the 
voice  of  penitence,  making  confession  of  some 
individual  act  of  transgression,  and  craving, 
with  all  the  humility  of  utter  wretchedness, 
to  be  reinstated  in  confidence  and  esteem. 
But  this  cannot  be.  The  thing  is  impossible. 
The  silver  cord  which  has  been  loosed,  no 
single  act  of  human  will  can  tie  again.  The 
golden  bowl  which  has  been  broken,  no  sin- 
gle effort  of  human  kindness  can  restore. 

But  may  not  years  bring  back  the  confi- 
dence so  wantonly  abused?  Oh,  blessed 
thought !  Begin,  then,  a  new  life.  Let  truth 
be  the  principle  of  every  thought,  the  echo 
of  every  word,  the  foundation  of  every  act 
Truth  is  invincible — it  must — it  will  prevail. 
Beautiful  as  the  morning  it  will  arise  ;  glori- 
ous as  the  noonday  it  will  shine  forth ;  calm 
as  the  evening  it  will  be  followed  by  repose ; 
and  thus  each  day  may  feel  its  gladdening 
and  invigorating  influence ;  while  every  flow- 
er that  grows  beneath  its  ray  will  shed  a 
charm  upon  the  path  of  life. 

But  if  the  regaining  of  confidence  after  it  has 
been  lost,  be  an  object  of  such  immeasurable 
importance  to  attain,  what  must  be  the  happi- 
ness of  her  who  has  never  lost  this  treasure  ] 
who  has  borne  through  all  change,  and  all 
trial,  a  true  and  upright  heart  towards  her 
husband,  who,  though  he  may  have  some- 
times mistaken,  and  sometimes  blamed  her, 
has  still  been  able  to  say,  even  when  appear- 
ances were  least  favorable,  and  when  per- 
haps he  was  most  in  need  of  the  consolation 
derived  from  reposing  implicit  confidence  in 
her  sincerity — 

"  Thou  art  my  true  and  honorable  wife, 
As  dear  to  me  as  are  the  niddy  drops 
That  visit  this  sad  heart." 

What,  then,  if  she  has  sometimes  suffered 
when  it  has  seemed  as  if  a  little  artifice  would 
have  made  all  things  easy,  that  suffering  has 


THE  LOVE  OF  MARRIED  LIFE. 


45 


been  in  a  noble  cause.  And  then  the  reward ! 
—the  conscience  void  of  offence  towards  that 
one  being  to  whom  she  can  be  nothing,  if  not 
true— the  fearless  look— the  unfaltering  tone 
— the  steady  hand — the  soul  that  might  be 
mirrored  forth  before  him— the  hopes,  the 
fear?,  that  might  be  his— the  workings  of  a 
busy  mind,  whose  minutest  plans  might  all 
at  any  moment  be  laid  bare  before  his  scru- 
tinizing eye— and  onward,  into  the  far  future, 
not  a  dream  but  he  might  know  it  all — and 
onward  yet — the  blessed  consciousness  that, 
should  the  secrets  of  all  hearts  be  read  on 
the  great  day  of  everlasting  doom,  there 
would  be  one  Avhose  glance,  and  that  the 
most  familiar,  would  not  detect  a  single  act 
or  thought  of  her  whole  life  inimical  to  his 
interests,  or  such  as  might  not  have  been 
revealed  to  him  before. 

Nor  is  the  mere  escape  from  the  uncer- 
tainty, anxiety,  and  pain,  entailed  upon  the 
habitual  practice  of  falsehood,  all  that  has  to 
be  considered.  A  brighter  picture  in  the 
page  of  truth,  is  that  in  which  we  see  por- 
trayed in  living  hues,  the  enjoyment  of  un- 
burdening a  full  heart,  and  laying  open  its 
secret  treasury  of  thought  and  feeling  to  him 
whose  earthly  portion,  whether  it  be  one  of 
weal  or  wo,  must  inevitably  be  blended  with 
our  own.  And  it  is  from  this  very  identity 
that  the  practice  and  the  love  of  truth  be- 
comes more  important,  as  a  moral  obligation 
in  the  married  state,  than  in  all  others.  In- 
deed the  perfect  truth  towards  each  other  of 
individuals  thus  united,  is  as  necessary  to 
their  welfare  and  their  happiness,  as  the 
union  and  concurrence  of  the  different  mem- 
bers of  the  human  frame,  is  to  the  usefulness 
and  integrity  of  the  whole 

It  is,  as  has  already  been  stated,  the  pecu- 
liar privilege  of  a  strict  adherence  to  truth, 
that  it  brings  its  own  reward  ;  for  if  we  vol- 
untarily confess  the  truth,  by  this  means  we 
obtain  confidence  ;  if  we  suffer  for  truth,  we 
have  the  consolation  of  suffering  in  a  noble 
cause,  and  of  gaining  strength  by  every  effort 
we  make  in  its  support;  while,  if  we  en- 
deavor conscientiously  to  uphold  the  tru^h, 
and  thus  consistently  exemplify  the  beauty 


and  the  power  of  this  great  attribute  in  the 
Divine  government,  we  have  the  still  higher 
satisfaction  of  doing  our  humble  part  to  glorify 
the  God  of  truth. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE   LOVE   OF   MARRIED   LIFE. 

IF,  in  the  foregoing  pages,  I  have  spoken 
of  the  married  state  as  one'  of  the  trial  of 
principle,  rather  than  of  the  fruition  of  hope  ; 
and  if,  upon  the  whjole,  my  observations 
should  appear  to  have  assumed  a  discour- 
aging, rather  than  a  cheering  character,  it  has 
arisen,  in  the  first  place,  from  my  not  having 
reached,  until  now,  that  part  of  the  subject  in 
which  the  advantages  of  this  connection  are 
fully  developed  ;  and  if,  in  the  second  place, 
I  must  plead  gulity  to  the  charge  of  desiring 
to  throw  some  hindrances  in  the  way  of 
youthful  aspiration,  it  has  simply  been  from 
observing  amongst  young  people  generally, 
how  much  greater  is  the  tendency  to  make 
the  experiment  for  themselves,  than  to  pre- 
pare themselves  for  the  experiment. 

If,  therefore,  I  have  selected  words  of 
warning,  in  preference  to  those  of  an  opposite 
nature,  it  has  been  because  the  tide  of  popular 
feeling,  especially  amongst  young  women,  is 
already  sufficiently  strong  in  favor  of  matri- 
monial alliances  ;  while  the  disposition  to  en- 
sure all  the  advantages  of  such  an  alliance, 
appears  far  beyond  what  bears  any  propor- 
tion tnjfyg  Aocyrt>  evinced  for  submitting  to 
that  discipline,  .by  which  alone  they  can  be 


That  this  disproportion  betwixt  expectation 
and  reality,  arises  from  ignorance,  rather  than 
any  other  cause,  I  am  fully  prepared  to  believe 
—  ignorance  of  the  human  heart,  of  the  actual 
circumstances  of  human  life,  of  the  operation 
of  cause  and  effect  in  human  affairs,  and  of 
the  relative  duty  of  human  beings  one  to- 
wards another. 

The  numbers  who  have  failed  in  this  way 
to  realize  in  their  experience  of  married  life, 


THE  WIVES  OF  ENGLAND. 


the  fair  picture  which  imagination  painted 
before  it  was  tried,  it  would  be  useless  to  at- 
tempt to -enumerate;  as  well  as  to  tell  how 
many  have  thrown  the  blame  of  their  disap- 
pointment upon  situation  or  circumstances — 
upon  husband,  servants,  friends,  or  relatives 
— when  the  whole  has  rested  with  themselves, 
and  has  arisen  solely  out  of  a  want  of  adapta- 
tion in  their  views  and  habits  to  the  actual 
requirements  of  the  new  state  of  existence 
upon  which  they  have  entered. 

That  this  state  itself  is  not  capable  of  the 
greatest  amount  of  happiness  which  is  ex- 
pected from  it,  I  should  be  sorry  to  deny  ;  and 
and  all  I  would  attempt  to  prove  in  the  way 
of  discouragement  is,  that  its  happiness  will 
often  prove  to  be  of  a  different  kind  from 
what  has  been  anticipated.  All  mat  has  been* 
expected  to  be  enjoyed  from  the  indulgence 
of  selfishness,  must  then  of  necessity  be  left 
out  of  our  calculations,  with  all  that  ministers 
to  the  pride  of  superiority,  all  mat  gratifies  the 
love  of  power,  all  that  converts  the,  woman 


her  an   object  o/_  _general_injerest  and  at- 
traction. 

It  may  very  naturally  be  asked,  what  then 
remains  ?  I  answer,  the  love  of  married  life  ; 
and  in  this  answer  is  embodied  the  richest 
treasure  which  this  earth  affords.  All  other 
kinds  of  love  hold  by  a  very  slender  tenure 
the  object  of  supreme  regard  ;  but  here  the 
actual  tie  is  severed  only  by  the  stroke  of 
death,  while  mutual  interest,  instead  of  weak- 
ening, renders  it  more  secure.  The  love  of 
a  parent  for  a  child,  natural,  and  pure,  and 
holy  as  it  is,  can  never  bind  that  child  beyond 
a  certain  period  within  its  influence ;  while 
the  love  of  a  child  for  a  parent  must  necessa- 
rily be  interrupted  in  the  course  of  nature,  by 
the  dissolution  of  its  earthly  hold.  The  love 
of  a  brother  or  a  sister  must  ever  be  ready  to 
give  place  to  dearer  claims ;  and  that  of  a 
friend,  though  "  very  precious"  while  it  lasts, 
has  no  real  security  for  its  continuance.  And 
yet  all  these,  according  to  the  laws  which 
regulate  our  being,  in  their  own  place  and 
measure,  supply  the  natural  craving  of  the 
human  heart  for  something  beyond  itself, 


which  it  may  call  its  own,  and  in  the  certainty 
of  possessing  which,  it  may  implicitly  re- 
pose. 

Nor  is  that  sage  philosophy,  which  would 
deny  the  existence  of  this  craving,  or  make 
light  of  its  requirements.  There  is  no  moody 
misanthrope,  however  solitary  the  lot  he 
chooses  for  himself,  but  cherishes  within  the 
secret  of  his  soul,  some  yearning  thought  of 
how  he  migjjt  have  been,  and  could  have, 
loved.  There  is  no  agitator  of  public  move- 
ments, hardened  and  sharpened  by  the  fierce 
contact  of  contending  interests,  but  seeks 
some  chosen  spot  of  rest,  where  the  cold  ar- 
mor of  his  selfishness  may  be  thrown  off, 
before  that  being  whose  hand  has  been  ac- 
customed to  pour  into  his  breast  the  balm  of 
sympathy  and  love.  There  is  no  outcast 
from  the  holier  walks  of  life,  no  victim  of  its 
cruel  vices,  no  maligner  of  religion  and  its 
sacred  institutions,  but  acknowledges,  at 
times,  a  secret  impulse  to  cling  to  something 
more  kind,  more  gentle,  and  less  degraded 
than  himself. 

Nor  is  it  only  in  our  human  sympathies 
that  this  craving  is  developed.  The  tame 
bird,  or  the  pet  lamb,  is  folded  to  the  solitary 
bosom  of  the  neglected  child,  with  as  intense 
a  feeling,  as  if  it  knew  the  thoughts  of  tender- 
ness pent  up  and  aching  there.  The  miser, 
whose  grovelling  soul  is  alike  at  enmity  with 
God  and  man,  enters  his  narrow  cell,  and, 
calling  to  his  side  his  faithful  dog,  smiles  on 
the  unconscious  animal  with  a  look  which  at 
once  reveals  ,the  history  of  his  wasted  heart. 
And  strange  to  say,  it  is  sometimes  even  thus 
with  ambition,  and  with  many  of  those  aims 
and  occupations  which  absorb  man's  life. 
They  are  followed,  not  for  the  results  they 
bring,  so  much  as  for  the  promises  they  offer 
— for  the  vague  hopes  they  hold  out,  that 
their  entire  accomplishment  will  satisfy  the 
cravings  of  an  insatiable  soul. 

But,  perhaps,  more  than  in  any  other  case, 
is  it  thus  with  literary  fame,  in  the  pursuit  of 
which  how  many  are  urged  on  by  a  strong, 
though  it  may  seem  to  some  a  fanciful  im- 
pression, that  the  voice  of  feeling  which  has 
failed  to  find  an  echo  in  its  own  immediate 


THE  LOVE  OF   MARRIED  LIFE. 


47 


sphere,  may,  in  the  wide  world  through  which 
it  is  sent  forth,  touch  in  some  unknown 
breast  a  sympathetic  chord,  and  thus  awaken 
a  responsive  emotion. 

But  if  with  man,  the  most  powerful  and 
independent  of  created  beings,  there  ever  ex- 
ists this  want  of  spiritual  reliance  and  com- 
munion, what  must  it  be  to  the  weaker  heart 
of  woman,  to  find  one  earthly  hold  after  an- 
other giving  way,  and  to  look  around  upon 
the  great  wilderness  of  life,  in  which  she 
stands  unconnected,  and  consequently  alone? 
^£  there  be  one  principle  in  woman's  nature 
gtronger  than  all  others,  it  is  that  which 
prompts  her  to  .-eek  sympathy  and  protection 
from  Foine  being  \vhoin  .-he  ma  love,  and 


by  whuiu  she  may  he  loved  in  return.  The 
influence  of  fashion  is,  perhaps,  of  all  others 
to  which  the  female  sex  is  exposed,  the  most 
hardening  to  the  heart  —  the  most  chilling  to 
its  warm  and  genuine  emotions.  Yet  I  much 
question  whether  the  successful  candidate 
for  public  admiration,  would  not  sometimes 
willingly  retire  from  the  splendid  circle  in 
which  she  is  the  centre  of  attraction,  to  re- 
ceive in  private  the  real  homage  of  one  un- 
sophisticated, noble,  and  undivided  heart. 
Having  failed  in  this,  woman's  first  and  most 
excusable  ambition,  how  often  does  she  go 
forth  into  the  world,  to  waste  upon  the  cold 
and  polished  surface  of  society,  those  capa- 
bilities of  thought  and  feeling  which  might, 
if  more  wisely  directed,  have  made  a  happy 
home  ;  and  how  often  is  she  compelled  to 
look,  appalled  and  horror-struck,  upon  the 
utter  emptiness  of  the  reward  which  follows 
this  expenditure,  when  the  same  outlay  in  a 
different  soil,  and  under  happier  culture, 
might  have  enabled  her  to  gather  into  her  bo- 
som a  hundred  fold  the  richer  fruits  of  con- 
fidence and  affection  ! 

cltis__oniy_.ia  the  married  state  .  that  __the 
boundless_capabilities  of  woman's  love  can 
bp  f^lly  known  or  appreciated.  There  may, 
in  other  situations,  be  occasional  instances  of 
heroic  self-sacrifice,  and  devotion  to  an  earth- 
ly object  ;  but  it  is  only  here  that  the  lapse 
of  time,  and  the  familiar  occasions  of  every 
day,  can  afford  opportunities  of  exhibiting 


the  same  spirit,  operating  through  all  those 
minor  channels,  which  flow  like  fertilizing 
rills  through  the  bosom  of  every  family 
where  the  influence  of  woman  is  alike  happy 
in  its  exercise,  and  enlightened  in  its  charac- 
ter. 

Out  of  all  which  our  first  parents  sacri- 
ficed when  they  lost  their  high  estate,  it  was 
mercifully  permitted  them  to  retain  their 
mutual  love ;  and  it  is  possible  to  imagine 
that  the  mother  cf  mankind,  even  when  look- 
ing her  last  upon  that  Eden  whose  flowers 
her  care  had  tended,  would  turn  to  the  com- 
panion of  her  banishment  with  a  deeper  and 
more  fervent  appeal  to  his  sympathy  and  af- 
fection, than  she  ever  could  have  felt  the 
need  of,  in  those  bowers  of  beauty  where  a 
leaf  was  never  seen  to  fade.  Thus  out  of 
her  very  weakness,  and  from  among  the 
many  snares  which  have  beset  the  path  of 
woman  since  that  day  of  awful  doom,  has 
arisen  a  more  intense  desire,  and  a  more  ur- 
gent need,  for  the  support  of  a  stronger  na- 
ture, with  which  her  own  can  mingle,  until 
it  almost  loses  the  bitter  consciousness  of 
having  forfeited  all  claim  to  be  still  an  inhab- 
itant of  Paradise. 


Lest,  however,  the  temptations  to  this  for- 
getfulness  should  stand  between  her  and  the 
necessity  there  is  to  seek  a  higher  and  a  ho- 
lier rest,  there  has  fallen  on  her  earthly  lot 
some  shadows,  which  the  light  of  earthly  love 
is  not  sufficient  to  dispel.  Even  love  itself 
has  sometimes  failed ;  and,  worse  than  all,  in 
her  own  bosom  has  become  extinguished. 

In  order  to  know  how  to  avert  this  calam- 
ity, it  is  necessary  to  endeavor  to  look  calm- 
ly and  dispassionately  at  the  subject  in  every 
point  of  view  to  dispel  the  visions  of  imagi- 
nation, and  to  ask  what  is  the  real  cause  of 
failure,  where  woman  has  so  much  at  stake. 

Love  may  arise  spontaneously,  but  it  does 
not  continue  to  exist  without  some  care  and 
culture.  In  a  mind  whose  ideas  are  all  float- 
ing at  large,  and  whose  emotions  of  feeling 
or  affection  are  left  to  the  prompting  of  im- 
pulse, unrestrained  by  the  discipline  or  rea- 
son, there  will  naturally  arise  strange  wander- 
ing thoughts,  which  will  be  likely  at  any 


49 


THE  WIVES  OF  ENGLAND. 


unguarded  moment  to  undermine  so  frail  a 
fabric,  as  love  under  such  circumstances 
must  ever  be. 

One  ten'dency  in  the  mind  of  the  married 
woman  who  has  thus  neglected  the  govern- 
ment of  her  own  feelings,  will  be,  on  every 
occasion  of  momentary  vexation  or  dissatis- 
faction, to  compare  her  husband  with  other 
men  to  his  disadvantage  ;  than  which  noth- 
ing can  be  more  dangerous,  or  more  incon- 
sistent with  that  faithfulness  which  ought 
ever  to  be  a  leading  characteristic  in  the  love 
of  married  life.  Nor  can  any  thing  well  be 
more  impolitic  or  absurd ;  since  there  is  no 
human  being,  however  excellent,  who  may 
not,  in  some  way  or  other,  be  made  to  suffer 
by  comparison  with  others.  Besides  which, 
what  right  have  we,  as  frail  and  erring  crea- 
tures, to  aspire,  in  this  connection,  to  an  alli- 
ance with  a  being  entirely  faultless,  or  even 
more  perfect  than  ourselves  7 

If  then  there  should  occasionally  arise  feel- 
ings of  disappointment  and  dissatisfaction,  as 
the  lapse  of  time  and  a  nearer  acquaintance 
develop  a  husband's  faults,  it  is  good  to  bear 
in  mind  that  the  same  exposure  of  your  own, 
from  the  same^  cause,  must  necessarily  have 
taken  place  ;  and  by  often  dwelling  upon  this 
view  of  the  subject,  a  degree  of  charitable 
feeling  will  be  excited,  more  calculated  to 
humble  and  chasten  the  heart,  than  to  embit- 
ter it  against  the  failings  of  another. 

Still  there  are  frequent  provocations  of  tem- 
per, which  some  men  through  ignorance,  and 
others  from  perverseness,  or  the  love  of  pow- 
er, are  not  over  scrupulous  to  avoid  ;  and 
these,  to  an  irritable  temperament,  are  often 
more  trying  than  greater  deviations  from 
what  is  strictly  right 

Against  the  petulance  and  occasional  re- 
sentment which  an  accumulation  of  these 
trials  call  forth,  there  is  one  great  and  solemn 
consideration,  by  which  a  woman  of  right 
feeling  may,  at  any  time,  add  sufficient 
weight  to  the  balance  in  her  husband's  favor 
— she  may  think  of  his  death,  of  the  emotions 
with  which  she  would  receive  his  last  fare- 
well, and  of  what  would  be  her  situation  if 
deprived  at  once  of  his  love,  his  advice,  and 


his  protection.  We  are  all  perhaps  too  little 
accustomed  to  such  thoughts  as  these,  ex- 
cept where, illness  or  accident  places  them 
immediately  before  us.  We  are  too  much  in 
the  habit  of  looking  upon  the  thread  of  life 
with  us,  as  far  more  likely  to  be  broken  first, 
and  of  thinking  that  the  stronger  frame  must 
necessarily  endure  the  longest  But  one 
realizing  thought  that  the  sentence  of  wid- 
owed loneliness  may  possibly  be  ours — how 
does  it  sweep  away,  as  by  a  single  breath, 
the  mist  of  little  imperfections  which  had 
gathered  around  a  beloved  form,  and  reveal 
to  us  at  one  glance  the  manly  beauties  of  a 
noble,  or  a  generous  character ! 

Even  beauties  less  than  these — the  kind 
look,  the  cordial  welcome,  the  patient  answer, 
the  mild  forbearance,  the  gentle  and  familiar 
acts  of  every  day  which  never-tiring  affection 
prompted,  and  the  smile  which  beamed  upon 
us  perhaps  when  we  deserved  it  least — all 
these  come  back,  and  live  before  us,  as  often 
as  we  think  of  the  possibility  of  losing  them 
forever.  And  it  is  good  to  have  the  heart 
thus  softened  and  subdued — thus  made  to 
feel  how  completely  the  petty  provocations  of 
each  day  would  vanish  from  our  minds,  if  we 
stood  by  the  dying  couch  of  him  who  never 
offended  but  in  little  things,  and  heard  the 
parting  benediction  of  the  friend  who  would 
fain  leave  behind  him  a  blessing,  which  his 
living  presence  had  failed  to  bestow.  ___. 

It  is  an  unspeakable  privilege  enjoyed  by 
the  women  of  England,  that  in  the  middle 
ranks  of  life,  a  married  woman,  however 
youthful  or  attractive,  if  her  own  manners 
are  unexceptionable,  is  seldom,  or  never,  ex- 
posed to  the  attentions  of  men,  so  as  to  lead 
her  affections  out  of  their  proper  channel. 

How  much  is  gained  in  domestic  and  so- 
cial happiness  by  this  exemption  from  cus- 
toms which  prevail  on  the  continent,  it  is  here 
unnecessary  to  attempt  to  describe  ;  for  I 
cannot  imagine  there  is  any  right-minded 
woman,  still  less  any  Christian  wife,  who 
does  not  number  it  among  the  peculiar  bless- 
ings of  her  country,  and  her  sex.  Yet  even 
in  our  privileged  land,  where  the  established 
rules  of  society  are  so  much  more  favorable 


THE  LOVE  OF  MARRIED  LIFE. 


49 


than  in  others,  to  the  purity  of  social  morals, 
and  the  sanctity  of  home-enjoyments,  there 
may  occasionally  occur  an  attempted  devia- 
tion from  these  rules,  on  the  part  of  ignorant 
or  unprincipled  men.  In  all  such  cases,  how- 
ever, the  slightest  approach  to  undue  fami- 
liarity is  easily  repelled,  by  such  a  look  and 
manner,  as  all  women  know  how  to  make 
use  of  in  discountenancing  what  is  not  ac- 
ceptable ;  and  even  in  more  trifling  cases,  or 
where  the  temptation  to  be  agreeable  over- 
comes the  inclination  to  be  otherwise,  I  be- 
lieve that  a  frank  and  easy  manner  of  speak- 
ing of  a  husband  with  respect  and  evident 
affection,  would  answer  every  purpose  of 
putting  a  stop  to  such  acfvances ;  while,  on 
the  other  hand,  nothing  can  be  more  likely  to 
invite  them,  than  speaking  in  complaining 
terms  either  of  a  husband,  or  of  his  behavior 
towards  yourself. 

But  the  surest  safeguard  both  at  home  and 
abroad,  and  the  truest  test  by  which  to  prove 
the  propriety  of  every  look,  and  act,  and 
word,  when  mixing  in  the  society  of  other 
men,  is  a  sincere  and  faithful  love  for  the 
companion  of  your  choice.  Without  this,  it 
would  be  vain  to  lay  down  rules  by  which  a 
wandering  fancy  might  be  kept  in  check. 
An  enlightened  conscience  alone,  in  such  a 
case,  can  point  out  exactly  how  to  act ;  while 
with  this  love,  there  needs  no  other  guide. 
It  is  itself  so  pure,  so  constant,  and  so  true, 
that  confidence  only  echoes  what  its  happier 
voice  approves. 

And  now,  having  thus  loved  your  husband, 
and  cast  in  your  lot  with  his — having  chosen 
his  portion,  his  people,  and  his  God  for  yours, 
it  is  meet  that  you  should  love  him  to  the 
last.  ^jJs^Jtoie,  there  are  cases  where  a 
gradual  deterioration  of  character,  or  a  sud- 
den fall  from  moral  rectitude,  renders  affec- 
tion, the  last  offering  a  stranger  would  think 
it  possible  to  make  at  such  a  shrine.^  but  if 
others  turn  away  repelled,  there  is  the  more 
TTeed  for-aucLi  a  man,  that  his  wife  should 
love  him  still — there  is  the  more  need  that 
.one  friemi  Ahmild  remain  to  be  near  him  in 
his  mojppn^  nf  tenf;  if  such  should 


betterdays^so  as  if  possible^  kindle  it  once 


ever  come ;  or  to  watch  the  lingering  light  of 


more  into  a  cheerful  and  invigorating  flamp 

Of  all  the  states  of  suffering  which  have 
ever  swelled  the  ocean  of  human  tears,  there 
is  none  in  the  smallest  degree  comparable  to 
the  situation  of  such  a  wife ;  yet,  as  if  by 
some  law  of  nature,  which  raises  the  sweet- 
est flowers  from  out  the  least  apparently  con- 
genial soil,  it  is  here  that  we  so  often  see  the 
character  of  woman  developed  in  all  its  love- 
liest and  noblest  attributes.  It  is  here  that 
we  see  to  what  an  almost  superhuman  height 
that  character  can  rise,  when  stripped  of  its,- 
vanity,  and  divested  of  its  selfishness.  Alas ! 
that  she  should  wait  for  the  chastening  of  a 
cruel  scourge,  before  she  will  even  aspire  to 
that  perfection  of  moral  beauty  of  which  her 
nature  is  capable ! 

If  to  love  the  vicious;  or  the  degraded, 
were  necessarily  to  love  their  vices  too,  it 
would  be  a  melancholy  picture  to  see  an 
amiable  woman  falling  into  such  a  snare. 
But  though  unquestionably  too  many  do  this, 
and  sometimes  almost  unconsciously  assimi- 
late themselves  with  vice,  either  from  con- 
stant association  with  what  is  evil,  or  from 
the  habit  of  referring  their  own  judgment  of 
right  and  wrong  to  that  of  a  polluted  and  de- 
graded mind  ;  there  are  others  who,  with  the 
nicest  discrimination,  and  with  the  clearest 
convictions  on  these  points,  go  on  from  day 
to  day  beholding  what  they  hate,  in  the  most 
intimate  connection  with  what  they  love. 

While  contemplating  the  fate  of  such,  our 
only  consolation  is  to  compare  their  situation 
as  it  is,  with  what  it  would  be,  were  there  no 
channel  open  to  mercy  and  to  hope,  for  the 
outpourings  of  a  heavily  laden  heart  through 
the  medium  of  prayer.  Friends  bring  no 
comfort,  earth  holds  no  consolation  for  those 
who  weep  such  tears  ;  yet  often  in  the  depth 
of  their  affliction  have  they  been  enabled  to 
own  and  bless  the  chastening  of  a  Father's 
hand,  and  to  feel  that  in  that  very  chas- 
tening there  was  love  ! 

But  it  is  time  to  turn  our  attention  to  that 
portion  of  the  love  of  married  life,  which  be- 
longs more  especially  to  the  other  sex ;  and 
here  the  first  thing  to  be  observed  is,  that  no 


THE  WIVES  OF  ENGLAND. 


man's  heart  can  be  said  to  be  really  gained 
before  his  marriage.  He  may  be  the  most 
obsequious  of  beaux,  the  most  flattering  of 
admirers,  and  even  the  most  devoted  of  lov- 
ers ;  but  his  affection  has  not  been  tried  in 
the  way  which  brings  it  to  the  severest  test. 
It  is  true  it  may  have  been  tried  by  absence, 
by  caprice,  by  coldness,  or  neglect ;  but  it 
has  yet  to  be  tried  by  the  security  of  entire 
possession  ;  by  the  monotony  of  sameness ; 
and,  I  grieve  to  add,  too  often  by  the  neglect 
of  those  personal  attractions  by  which  it  was 
at  first  so  studiously  invited. 

How  little  do  women  think  of  this,  when, 
by  the  security  of  the  marriage  tie,  they  are 
rendered  careless  of  the  preservation  of  the 
richest  jewel  in  their  bridal  wreath,  and  one 
which  never  yet  was  secured  to  its  possessor 
by  any  outward  bond  1  How  little  do  they 
reflect,  that  while  it  is  the  natural  tendency 
of  woman's  heart  to  become  more  tenderly 
attached  to  the  being  with  whom  she  is  thus 
associated,  it  is  not  so  with  that  of  man ! 
Ana  thus  it  becomes  the  study  of  a  life,  to 
retain  in  all  its  freshness  and  its  beauty,  the 
precious  gem  committed  to  their  trust. 

Nor  should  we  murmur  that  it  is  so.  For 
once  possessed  of  this  inestimable  treasure, 
and  secure  of  its  continuance,  what  should 
we  aspire  to  beyond  our  present  state  1 
Even  as  things  are,  we  see  a  marked  neglect 
it\  the  behavior  of  some  wives ;  as  if  their 
husbands  were  equally  bound  to  love,  as  to 
protect  them.  What  then  w.ould  be  the  de- 
gree of  carelessness  prevailing  among  wo- 
men, if  this  were  really  the  case,  and  if  the 
heart  of  man  invariably,  and  of  necessity, 
went  along  with  his  duty  as  a  husband  ! 

Happily  for  our  sex,  however,  there  are 
means  of  securing  this  treasure,  more  effica- 
cious than  the  marriage  vow ;  and  among 
these,  I  shall  mention  first,  the  desirable- 
ness of  not  being  too  requiring.  It  must 
ever  be  borne  in  mind,  that  mpn's  love,  even 
in  its  happiest  exercise,  is  not  like  woman's ; 
for  while  she  employs  herself  through  every 
hour,  in  fondly  weaving  one  beloved  image 
into  all  her  thoughts  ;  he  gives  to  her  com- 
paratively few  of  his,  and  of  these  perhaps 


neither  the  loftiest  nor  the  best.  His  highest 
hopes  and  brightest  energies,  must  ever  be 
expected  to  expend  themselves  upon  the 
promotion  of  some  favorite  scheme,  or  the 
advancement  of  some  public  measure;  and 
if  with  untiring  satisfaction  he  turns  to  her 
after  the  efforts  of  the  day  have  been  com- 
pleted ;  and  weary,  and  perhaps  dispirited, 
comes  back  to  pour  into  her  faithful  bosom 
the  history  of  those  trials  which  the  world 
can  never  know,  and  would  not  pity  if  it 
could  ;  if  she  can  thug  supply  to  the  extent 
of  his  utmost  wishes,  the  sympathy  and  the 
advice,  the  confidence  and  the  repose,  of 
which  he  is  in  need,  she  will  have  little  cause 
to  think  herself  neglected. 

It  is  a  wise  beginning,  then,  for  every  mar- 
ried woman  to  make  up  her  mind  to  be  for- 
gotten through  the  greater  part  of  every  day ; 
to  make  up  her  mind  to  many  rivals  too  in 
her  husband's  attentions,  though  not  in  his 
love;  and  among  these,  I  would  mention 
one,  whose  claims  it  is  folly  to  dispute  ;  since 
no  remonstrances  or  representations  on  her 
her  part  will  ever  be  able  to  render  less  at- 
tractive the  charms  of  this  competitor.  I 
mean  the  newspaper,  of  whose  absorbing  in- 
terest some  wives  are  weak  enough  to  evince 
a  sort  of  childish  jealousy,  when  they  ought 
rather  to  congratulate  themselves  that  their 
most  formidable  rival  is  one  of  paper. 

The  same  observations  apply  perhaps  in  a 
more  serious  manner  to  those  occupations 
which  lead  men  into  public  life.  If  the  ob- 
ject be  to  do  good,  either  by  correcting 
abuses,  or  forwarding  benevolent  designs, 
and  not  merely  to  make  himself  the  head  of 
a  party,  a  judicious  and  right-principled  wo- 
man will  be  too  happy  for  her  husband  to  be 
instrumental  in  a  noble  cause,  to  put  in  com- 
petition with  his  public  efforts,  any  loss  she 
may  sustain  in  personal  attention  or  domestic 
comfort. 

A  system  of  persecution  perseveringly  car- 
ried on  against  such  manly  propensities  as 
reading  the  newspaper,  or  even  against  the 
household  derangements  necessarily  accom- 
panying attention  to  public  business,  has  the 
worst  possible  effect  upon  a  husband's  tem- 


THE  LOVE  OF  MARRIED  LIFE. 


51 


>er,  and  general  state  of  feeling.  So  much 
o,  that  I  am  inclined  to  think  a  greater 
mount  of  real  love  has  been  actually  teased 
way,  than  ever  was  destroyed  by  more  di- 
ect,  or  more  powerfully  operating  means. 

The  same  system  of  teasing  is  sometimes 
most  unwisely  kept  up,  for  the  purpose  of 
ailing  forth  a  succession  of  those  little  per- 
onal   attentions,  which,  if  not  gratuitously 
endered,  are  utterly  destitute  of  value,  and 
ught  never  to  be  required. 
To  all  married  women,  it  must  be  gratify- 
ng  to  receive  from  a  husband  just  so  much 
attention  as  indicates  a  consciousness  of  her 
)resence  ;  but  with  this  acknowledgment,  ex- 
messed  in  any  manner  which  may  be  most 
congenial  to  her  husband's  tastes  and  habits, 
a  woman  of  true  delicacy  would  surely  be 
atisfied  without  wishing  to  stipulate  for  more. 
Still  less  would  she  annoy  him  with  an  ex- 
hibition of  her  own  fondness,  under  the  idea 
of  its  being  necessarily  returned  in  kind.    It 
is  a  holy,  and  a  blessed  mystery,  from  the 
secrets  of  which,  in  its  mastery  over  the  hu- 
man mind,  almost  all  women  who  have  ever 
been  beloved,  have  learned  the  power  of  their 
own  tenderness ;  but  in  proportion  to  the 
purity  of  its  nature,  and  the  sacredness  of  its 
exercise,  is  its  capability  of  being  abused  and 
degraded.     Thus,  all  exhibition  of  fondness 
before  a  third  party,  may  justly  be  lookec 
upon  as  indicating  a  total  ignorance  of  the 
intensity,  and  the  purity,  of  that  which  alone 
deserves  the  name  of  love ;  while,  could  one 
imagine  the  possibility  of  such  a  thing,  all  ex- 
ercise of  this  fondness  made  use  of  for  the 
purpose  of  obtaining  advantage  over  a  hus- 
band's judgment  or  inclination,  could  only  be 
supposed  to  arise  out  of  the  meanest  impulse 
of  a  low,  an  artful,  and  a  degraded  mind. 

But  we  cannot  for  a  moment  imagine  such 
things  really  are.  We  cannot  believe  that 
woman  conscious  of  her  personal  attractions 
could  hang  about  her  husband's  neck,  o: 
weep,  or  act  the  impassioned  heroine,  for  tin 
base  purpose  of  inducing  him  to  make  somi 
concession,  which  in  his  calmer  moments  b 
could  not  be  prevailed  upon  to  grant.  No 
the  true  heart  of  woman  knows  too  well,  tha 


hat  sweet  gift  of  heaven,  granted  in  consid- 
ration  to  her  weakness,  was  never  meant  to 
)e  made  use  of  as  an  instrument  of  power  to 
gain  a  selfish  end  ;  but  was  permitted  her  for 
he  high  and  holy  purpose  of  softening  the 
larder  and  more  obdurate  nature  of  man,  so 
as  to  render  it  capable  of  impressions  upon 
ivhich  the  seal  of  eternity  might  be  set 

It  requires  much  tact,  as  well  as  delicacy, 
o  know  how  to  render  expressions  of  endear- 
ment at  all  times  appropriate,  and   conse- 
quently acceptable ;  and  as  love  is  far  too 
xcellent  a  thing  to  be  wasted,  and  tender- 
less  too  precious  to  be  thrown  away,  a  sen- 
sible woman  will  most  scrupulously  consult 
lier  husband's  mood  and  temper  in  this  ra. 
spect,  as  well  as  remember  always  the  con- 
sideration due  to  her  own  personal  attrac- 
tions ;  for,  without  some  considerable  portion 
of  these  advantages,  it  will  be  always  safest 
not  to  advance  very  far,  unless  there  should 
be  clear  and  direct  encouragement  to  do  so. 
Pitiful  pictures  have  been  drawn  in  works  of 
fiction  of  the  hopelessness  of  efforts  of  this 
nature ;  but  one  would  willingly  believe  them 
to  be  confined  to  fiction  only,  for  there  is  hap- 
pily, in  most  enlightened  female  minds,  an 
intuitive  perception  on  these  points,  by  which 
they  may  discover  almost  instantaneously 
from  a  look,  a  tone,  a  touch  responsive  to 
their  own,  how  far  it  may  be  desirable  to  go, 
and  by  what  shadow  they  ought  to  be  warn- 
ed, as  well  as  by  what  ray  of  light  they  ought 
to  be  encouraged. 

It  may  be  easily  imagined  how  an  ignorant, 
or  selfish  woman,  never  can  be  able  to  un- 
derstand all  this,  and  how  she  may  conse- 
quently make  shipwreck  of  her  husband's 
happiness,  and  her  own  peace,  simply  from 
never  having  known,  observed,  or  felt,  what 
belongs  to  the  nature  of  the  human  heart  in 
these  its  most  exquisite  touches  of  light  and 
shade;  while,  on  the  other  hand,  not  the 
highest  intellectual  attainments,  with  the  no- 
blest gifts  of  nature,  nor  all  the  importance 
and  distinction  which  these  attributes  obtain 
for  their  possessor  in  the  world,  will  be  able 
to  efface  for  a  moment  the  delicate  percep- 
tions of  a  truly  sensitive  woman,  or  to  render 


52 


THE  WIVES  OF  ENGLAND. 


her  in  the  deep  and  fervent  love  of  which 
she  la  capable,  otherwise  than  humble,  and 
easily  subdued ;  especially  when  she  comes 
with  childlike  simplicity  to  consult  the  dial 
of  her  husband's  love,  and  to  read  there  the 
progress  of  the  advancing  or  receding  shad- 
ows, which  indicate  her  only  true  position, 
through  the  lapse  of  every  hour. 

It  is  an  act  of  injustice  towards  women, 
and  one  which  often  brings  its  own  punish- 
ment upon  talented  men,  when  they  select  as 
their  companions  for  life,  the  ignorant  or  the 
imbecile  of  the  other  sex,  believing  that  be- 
cause they  are  so,  they  must  be  more  capable 
of  loving.  If  to  be  incapable  of  any  thing  else, 
implies  this  necessity,  it  must  be  granted  that 
they  are  so.  But  of  what  value  is  that  love 
which  exists,  as  a  mere  impulse  of  nature, 
compared  with  that,  which,  with  an  equal 
force  of  impulse,  combines  the  highest  attri- 
butes of  an  enlightened  mind,  and  brings 
them  all  with  their  rich  produce,  like  flowers 
from  a  delicious  garden,  a  welcome  and  ap- 
propriate offering  at  the  shrine  whereon  the 
heart  is  laid. 

Still  I  must  repeat,  that  it  is  not  the  superi- 
ority of  talent,  but  the  early  and  the  best  use 
of  such  as  we  possess,  which  gives  this  power 
and  beauty  to  affection,  by  directing  it  to  its 
appropriate  end.  For  as  in  other  duties  of 
woman's  life,  without  knowledge  she  cannot, 
if  she  would,  act  properly  ;  so  in  the  expres- 
sion and  bestowment  of  her  love,  without  an 
intimate  acquaintance  with  the  human  heart, 
without  having  exercised  her  faculties  of  ob- 
servation and  reflection,  and  without  having 
obtained  by  early  discipline  some  mastery 
over  her  own  feelings,  she  will  ever  be  liable 
to  rush  blindly  upon  those  fatal  errors,  by 
which  the  love  of  married  life  so  often  has 
been  wrecked. 

In  connection  with  this  subject,  there  is  one 
consideration  to  which  sufficient  weight  is  sel- 
dom given ;  and  that  is,  the  importance  of 
never  trifling  with  affection  after  the  nuptual 
knot  is  tied.  To  do  this  at  any  time,  or  in 
any  way,  is  scarcely  consistent  with  the  feel- 
ings of  a  deeply  sensitive  and  delicate  mind  : 
but  leaving  the  display  of  caprice  to  those 


who  think  it  gives  zest  to  the  familiarity  of 
courtship,  it  cannot  be  too  deeply  impressed 
upon  the  female  mind,  that  with  the  days  of 
courtship  it  must  end. 

There  are  innumerable  tests  which  might 
be  applied  to  the  love  of  married  life,  so  as  to 
ascertain  the  degree  of  its  intensity,  or  the 
progress  of  its  declension ;  but  who  would 
wish  to  apply  them  ? — or  who,  even  if  they 
did,  would  dare  to  make  so  critical  an  ex- 
periment 1  If  there  be  any  cause  for  its  exist- 
ence, the  consciousness  comes  soon  enough, 
that  the  wife  is  not  all  to  her  husband  which 
the  flattering  promises  of  early  love  prepared 
her  to  expect ;  and  if  there  be  no  cause  for 
the  slightest  shadow  of  suspicion  that  her 
star  is  beginning  to  go  down,  why  trouble  her 
own  repose,  and  that  of  her  husband,  by 
questioning  the  reality  of  what  it  would  be 
worse  than  death  to  doubt  ? 

All  teasing,  all  caprice,  all  acting,  for  the 
purpose  of  renewing  an  agreeable  effect,  are 
therefore  inimical  to  the  mutual  trust,  and 
the  steady  confidence  in  reciprocal  affection, 
which  are,  or  ought  to  be,  enjoyed  by  indi- 
viduals thus  bound  together  by  an  indissolu- 
ble tie.  Not  that  the  writer  would  for  a  mo- 
ment wish  to  discountenance  that  harmless 
vivacity  with  which  some  women  know  so 
well  how  to  charm ;  or  to  speak  of  the  priva- 
cy of  married  life  as  consisting  of  dull  and 
sombre  scenes.  So  far  from  this,  it  is  her 
firm  belief,  that  nothing  tends  more  to  ani- 
mate and  renew  the  feeling  of  affection  in 
the  mind  of  man,  than  the  cheerfulness  of 
his  fireside  companion. 

It  is  here,  then,  that  the  display  of  native 
wit  and  humor  may  be  enjoyed  with  the 
greatest  zest,  for  here  it  is  safe ;  and  the  hus- 
band who  comes  home  to  have  his  spirit  re- 
freshed by  an  easy,  natural,  and  well-timed 
description  of  the  amusing  incidents  which 
have  taken  place  during  his  absence,  will  not 
be  the  most  likely  to  prefer  another  fireside  to 
his  own. 

Even  in  illness,  but  especially  when  laboring 
only  under  a  slight  degree  of  indisposition,  by 
those  who  have  made  cheerfulness  a  familiar 
habit,  much  may  be  done  to  prevent  the  dou- 


THE  LOVE  OF  MARRIED  LIFE. 


53 


ble  burden  of  sickness  and  sorrow  falling  up- 
on a  husband  at  once. 

There  is  a  vast  difference  between  being 
as  ill  as  you  can  be,  and  as  well  as  you  can 
be.  To  aim  at  the  latter  rather  than  the 
former,  is  the  duty  of  every  one,  but  espe- 
cially of  the  married  woman,  the  great  busi- 
ness of  whose  life  is  to  soothe  and  cheer,  not 
to  depress,  to  weary,  or  to  annoy.  If  there- 
fore, before  marriage,  she  has  been  deluded 
into  the  notion  that  a  multiplicity  of  little  ail- 
ments invested  her  character  with  an  inter- 
esting kind  of  delicacy ;  the  sooner  she  be- 
comes perfectly  well  after  marriage,  the  better 
it  will  be  for  herself,  and  for  all  around  her. 

Lest,  however,  the  liberty  of  these  remarks 
should  appear  to  touch  unkindly  those  who 
are  really  afflicted,  I  must  refer  the  reader  for 
a  proof  of  what  may  be  done  in  the  way  of 
bearing  pain  with  cheerfulness  and  resigna- 
tion, to  those  many  beautiful  instances  which 
adorn  the  history  of  woman,  where  her  own 
sufferings  appear  to  be  forgotten  in  the  inten- 
sity of  her  desire  to  make  others  happy. 
And  here  again  we  see  the  necessity  of  hav- 
ing made  such  acts  of  self-sacrifice  habitual. 
No  human  being,  however  great  the  moment- 
ary effort,  can  practise  this  kind  of  self-gov- 
ernment, or  consistently  exercise  this  degree 
of  generosity,  merely  from  the  force  of  tran- 
sient impulse ;  and  when  the  greater  claims 
upon  the  attention  of  a  wife  render  illness  to 
her  a  more  painful  and  trying  ordeal  than  it 
has  ever  been  before,  she  will  feel  the  greater 
need  of  having  practised,  in  her  early  years, 
the  habit  of  so  far  restraining  the  expression 
of  personal  feeling,  as  by  making  the  best  of 
her  afflictions,  and  gratefully  embracing  such 
opportunities  of  enjoyment  as  still  remain,  to 
be  able  to  render  it  not  an  irksome  duty,  but 
a  privilege,  to  be  near  her  in  sickness  and  suf- 
fering. 

It  is  a  great  pity  when  those  trials  which 
render  affection  so  essential  to  our  support, 
should  be  made  the  means  of  driving  it  away. 
Nor  is  it  at  all  necessary  that  this  should  be 
the  case  with  men ;  for  there  is  a  kindness, 
and  a  forbearance,  mingled  with  their  higher 
virtues,  which  sometimes  elicits  from  them 


the  most  devoted  and  delicate  attentions  in 
the  season  of  illness ;  and  all  who  have  ex- 
perienced, and  felt  the  real  value  of  such  at- 
tentions, will  estimate  them  too  highly,  to  be 
willing  that  a  habit  of  fretful  or  unnecessary 
complaining  should  thus  deprive  the  hour  of 
suffering  of  its  greatest  earthly  consolation. 

It  would  not  be  just,  even  if  it  were  possi- 
ble, to  speak  on  this  subject,  and  to  leave  un- 
marked by  expressions  of  gratitude  and  ad- 
miration,  the  gentle  kindness  and  untiring 
patience,  with  which  some  men  can  devote 
themselves  to  the  duties  of  a  sick-room ;  or 
how,  by  their  superior  strength,  added  some- 
times to  a  higher  degree  of  tenderness  and 
delicacy,  they  can  render  those  services  to  a 
weak  or  suffering  wife,  which  nothing  but  the 
love  of  married  life  can  either  purchase  or 
repay.  But  though  one  would  willingly  for- 
give the  wife,  who  for  the  gratification  afford- 
ed by  such  kindness,  would  almost  wish  to 
suffer,  it  must  ever  be  remembered,  that  not 
by  complaining  of  every  little  ache  and  pain, 
is  such  kindness  to  be  purchased ;  but  by 
bearing,  with  sweetness  and  serenity,  those 
trials  which  the  all-wise  Disposer  of  human 
events  sees  meet  to  inflict 

It  is  in  seasons  such  as  these,  that  the  per- 
fect identity  originating  in  the  marriage  bond, 
is  most  deeply  felt — that  identity  which  gives 
a  spiritual  nature  to  an  earthly  union.  It  is 
true  we  are  told  there  is  no  such  thing  as 
giving  in  marriage  in  heaven ;  but  we  are 
left  to  enjoy  the  happiness  of  believing,  that 
there  is  something  almost  heavenly  in  the 
"  marriage  of  true  minds" — something  which 
brings  us  nearer,  than  any  other  circumstance 
in  this  sublunary  state,  to  an  apprehension 
of  what  must  be  the  enjoyment  of  those  re- 
gions of  felicity,  where  all  existences  are 
blended  into  one,  and  where  the  essential 
principle  of  that  one  is  love. 

Nor  is  it  the  least  wonderful  property  be- 
longing to  this  drop  of  sweetness  in  life's 
great  ocean,  that  it  can  exist  almost  inde- 
pendently of  outward  circumstances.  How 
many  of  the  hapless  inheritors  of  poverty 
and  suffering  have  nothing  else;  and  yet 
!  their  lot  is  scarcely  to  be  called  bitter,  so  long 


54 


THE  WIVES  OF  ENGLAND. 


as  they  have  this.  On  the  other  hand,  how 
many  a  desolate  but  jewelled  brow,  would 
doff  its  envied  wreath,  for  the  privilege  of 
sharing  this  enjoyment  with  one  who  was 
equally  loving  and  beloved ! 

Let  us  not,  however,  fall  into  the  romantic 
notion,  that  outward  circumstances  have  no- 
thing to  do -with  the  maintenance  of  this 
strong  feeling  of  identity.  Poverty  of  itself, 
or  privation  in  the  abstract,  would  probably 
never  be  able  to  shake  the  foundation  of 
man's  love,  or  woman's  either ;  but  such  is 
the  complicated  texture  of  the  human  mind, 
that  no  single  portion  of  suffering  or  enjoy- 
ment exists  to  us  alone,  but  each  draws 
along  with  it  a  train  of  associating  links,  by 
which  it  is  connected  sometimes  with  what  is 
most  heterogeneous  and  dissimilar  to  its  own 
nature.  Thus  it  is  the  manner  in  which  pov- 
erty is  borne,  which  so  frequently  constitutes 
the  greatest  trial  of  love — the  mutual  com- 
plainings, recriminations,  and  suspicions, 
which  it  calls  forth ;  not  its  suffering,  its  des- 
titution, and  its  abasement,  for  under  these  it 
is  within  the  province  of  love  to  support  and 
to  console ;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  it  is  the 
vanity,  the  dissipation,  and  the  diversity  of 
interests  excited  by  circumstances  of  extra- 
ordinary prosperity,  which  often  prove  fatal 
to  the  love  of  married  life ;  when  the  wider 
range  of  duties  and  privileges,  belonging  to 
an  exalted  station,  might  have  constituted  a 
stronger  bond  of  sympathy  between  individ- 
uals thus  elevated  together. 

Thus  the  fault  is  not  in  the  love  of  mar- 
ried life,  that  it  gives  way  so  often  under  the 
trial  of  outward  circumstances ;  but  in  the 
power  so  frequently  brought  to  bear  against 
it,  from  the  wrong  feelings  which  circum- 
stances are  allowed  to  call  into  action. 

Of  man's  love  it  must  ever  be  remembered 
it  is 


r. 

Woman  has  the  strong  power  of  her 
sympathy  and  her  imagination,  by  which  in- 
terest can  be  re-awakened,  and  the  past  can 
be  made  to  live  again;  but  the  nature  of 
man's  affection  admits  of  no  very  potent 
stimulus  from  such  causes.  When  once  his 
tenderness  toward  the  object  of  his  affection 


is  extinguished,  his  love  may  too  truly  be 
said  to  have  lost  its  bloom,  its  freshness,  and 
its  intensity.  A  sense  of  duty  may  still  sup- 
ply what  propriety  requires,  and  a  feeling 
that  his  doom  is  fixed  may  prevent  any  great 
expenditure  of  thought  in  sad  and  unavailing 
regrets;  but  who  that  has  looked  "on  this 
picture  and  on  that" — who  that  has  observed 
the  dull  and  leaden  aspect  presented  by  mar- 
ried life  under  these  circumstances,  could 
contemplate  with  equanimity  of  mind,  the 
possibility  of  its  succeeding  in  the  place  of 
that  bright  and  glowing  picture  first  brought 
to  light  by  the  early  promise  of  mutual  love  1 
It  should  then  be  the  first  and  last  study  of 
every  married  woman,  to  preserve  this  pic- 
ture in  all  its  purity,  and  all  its  freshness ; 
remembering  ever  that  it  is  not  from  the 
great  and  stirring  accidents  of  time,  that  the 
most  danger  is  to  be  apprehended ;  but  that 
sometimes — 

"  A  word  unkind  or  wrongly  taken ; 
Or  Love,  which  tempest  never  shook, 
A  breath — a  touch  like  this  hath  shaken." 

It  is  not,  therefore,  by  exemption  from  out- 
ward calamity,  that  woman  can  preserve  this 
treasure  of  her  life ;  but  by  maintaining 
through  all  the  little  incidents  of  daily  inter- 
course a  true  and  faithful  heart  towards  her 
husband — true  in  its  own  affections — true  also 
to  the  various  requirements  of  human  nature 
— and  true  in  its  attachment  to  his  interests, 
both  as  they  relate  to  time  and  to  eternity. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

TRIALS   OF   MARRIED   LIFE. 

IF  in  describing  the  domestic  happiness  of 
English  homes,  the  love  of  married  life  were 
all  which  had  to  be  dwelt  upon,  the  task  of 
the  writer  would  be  like  that  of  one  who  en- 
ters a  garden  for  no  other  purpose  than  to 
cull  the  flowers ;  but  as  among  the  fairest 
productions  of  nature,  the  intrusion  of  noxious 
weeds  must  ever  be  anticipated ;  so  among 
the  brighter  scenes  of  human  life,  dark  pas- 


TRIALS  OF  MARRIED  LIFE. 


55 


sages  must  occasionally  be  expected;  and 
happy  will  it  be  if  they  only  appear  like  pass- 
ing clouds  over  the  landscape,  leaving  the 
aspect  of  the  whole  more  vivid  and  beautiful, 
for  the  trifling  interruption  to  its  sameness 
and  repose. 

That  married  life  has  its  peculiar  trials,  it 
would  imply  great  ignorance  of  the  actual 
state  of  human  affairs  to  attempt  to  disprove; 
and  while  we  gladly  admit  the  fact,  that  it  is 
possible  to  be  happier  in  this  state,  than  any 
human  being  can  be  alone ;  we  must  also 
bear  in  mind,  that  it  is  possible  to  be  more 
miserable  too— perhaps  for  this  very  reason, 
that  the  greatest  trials  connected  with  this 
state  of  existence,  are  such,  as  cannot  be  told. 


and  therefore  such  as  necessarily  set  the  suf- 
ferer apart  from  all  human  sympathy  and 
consolation.  Many  of  these,  however,  may 
be  greatly  ameliorated  by  a  willingness  to 
meet  them  in  a  proper  way ;  but  more  es- 
pecially, by  an  habitual  subjection  of  self  to 
the  interests  and  the  happiness  of  others. 

Among  the  trials  peculiar  to  married  life, 
we  will  first  speak  of  those  of  temper ;  and 
here  it  is  necessary  to  refer  again  to  the 
common  delusion  prevailing  among  young 
women,  which  leads  them  to  look  forward  to 
the  time  of  marriage,  as  the  opening  of  a 
scene  of  unlimited  indulgence,  where  every 
wish  will  be  consulted,  and  every  inclination 
gratified  to  its  full  extent,  and  where  con- 
sequently it  will  be  impossible  that  offences 
should  ever  come. 

It  requires  but  little  reflection  to  perceive, 
that  even  if  the  husband  had  been  sincere  in 
all  the  promises,  which  as  a  lover  he  held 
forth,  it  would  not  be  in  his  power  to  render 
the  lot  of  any  woman  one  of  uninterrupted 
enjoyment ;  for  however  faithfully  his  own 
part  might  be  fulfilled,  it  would  still  be  the 
inevitable  consequence  of  thus  setting  out 
together  in  the  serious  business  of  conducting 
a  household,  that  circumstances  should  press 
upon  both,  so  as  either  to  thwart  their  incli- 
nations, or  bend  them  to  submission.  Be- 
yond these,  however,  it  must  be  allowed,  that 
there  are  no  trials  of  temper  arising  out  of 
the  cross  occurrences  incident  to  family  af- 


fairs, at  all  to  be  compared  with  those  which 
belong  to  the  close  intercourse  of  persons  of 
dissimilar  habits  bound  together  for  life. 

It  is  a  curious  fact,  that  however  irritable 
the  temper  may  be,  a  Etranger  has  compara- 
tively no  power  to  ruffle  it ;  while,  on  the 
other  hand,  the  closer  the  intimacy,  the 
greater  is  the  liability  both  to  pain  and  pro- 
vocation, where  that  intimacy  is  made  use  of 
as  a  key  to  the  secret  passages  of  the  heart 
Hence  the  bland  and  patient  smiles  with 
which  a  stranger  is  sometimes  listened  to, 
when  a  sister  or  a  brother  conversing  in  the 
same  style,  would  scarcely  be  endured ;  and 
hence  the  peevish  answer  sometimes  be- 
stowed upon  a  husband,  when  a  guest  is  im- 
mediately spoken  to  in  the  gentlest  and  most 
conciliating  tone. 

There  is  something,  too,  in  the  bare  fact  of 
being  indissolubly  bound  together,  which,  in- 
stead of  rendering  it  for  that  reason  an  ob- 
ject of  supreme  desire  that  the  bondage 
should  be  one  of  silken  cords,  rather  than  one 
of  weary  chains,  seems  to  produce  in  the 
human  mind,  a  sort  of  perverse  determina- 
tion to  bear,  whatever  must  be  borne,  as 
badly  as  we  can. 

That  the  prospect  of  having  to  combat  with 
any  trial  of  temper  but  for  a  very  limited  space 
of  time,  has  a  peculiar  effect  in  rendering  it 
more  tolerable,  we  have  sufficient  proof  in 
the  conduct  of  hired  nurses,  who,  perhaps, 
of  all  human  beings,  have  the  most  to  put  up 
with  in  the  way  of  provocations  of  this  kind. 
It  cannot  be  supposed  that  persons  of  this 
description  possess  any  peculiar  advantages 
in  the  way  of  mental  discipline,  to  give  them 
this  power  of  self-command ;  nor  is  it  a  ques- 
tion of  self-interest,  for  of  all  persons,  that 
would  be  most  likely  to  operate  upon  the 
wife;  neither  have  they  time  or  opportu- 
nity, in  the  majority  of  cases,  for  attaching 
themselves  by  any  feelings  of  affection  to  the 
objects  of  their  care.  It  is  the  simple  fact  that 
all  will  soon  be  over,  and  that  to  them  it  is 
ultimately  of  no  sort  of  consequence,  which 
enables  them  to  bear  with  such  amazing  equa- 
nimity the  trials  of  patience  to  which  they 
are  so  frequently  subjected;  while,  on  the 


56 


THE  WIVES  OF  ENGLAND. 


other  hand,  the  consideration  that  it  must  be 
thus,  and  thus  always,  appears  at  once  to 
excite  a  spirit  of  resistance  where  resistance 
is  most  vain. 

But  granting  that  there  is,  inherent  in  the 
human  mind,  this  spirit  of  contradiction,  and 
granting  also  that  men,  with  all  their  dignified 
and  noble  attributes,  are  sometimes,  though 
often  unconsciously,  indescribably  provoking 
to  an  irritable  temperament;  there  is  one 
consideration  which  a  generous  mind  will 
be  ever  willing  to  dwell  upon  with  so  much 
candor,  as  at  least  to  make  concessions  when 
it  has  been  betrayed  into  any  excess  of  irrita- 
bility, if  not  wholly  to  submit  with  cheerful- 
ness and  resignation  to  this  peculiar  dispen- 
sation, regarding  it  as  among  the  appoint- 
ments of  Providence,  designed  for  purposes 
inscrutable  perhaps  to  human  reason,  yet  not 
the  less  in  accordance  with  mercy,  and  with 
wisdom. 

But  in  order  to  judge  more  candidly  on 
this  subject,  let  us  single  out  a  few  instances 
of  the  most  familiar  kind  on  both  sides ;  apd 
if  the  merit  of  unconsciousness,  and  absence 
of  design,  does  not  preponderate  on  the  side 
of  man,  I  shall  be  much  mistaken  in  my  cal- 
culations. 

I  have  always  been  accustomed  to  con- 
sider it  as  the  severest  trial  to  the  temper  of 
a  married  woman,  to  have  an  idle  husband  ; 
and  if  in  addition  to  neglecting  his  business, 
or  such  manly  occupations  as  an  exemption 
from  the  necessities  of  business  would  leave 
him  at  liberty  to  pursue,  he  is  personally 
idle,  sitting  slipshod  at  noontime,  with  his 
feet  upon  the  fender,  occasionally  jarring  to- 
gether the  whole  army  of  fire-irons  with  one 
stroke  of  his  foot,  agitated  at  intervals  by  the 
mere  muscular  irritation  of  having  nothing  to 
do,  or  not  choosing  to  do  any  thing ;  and  if 
he  should  happen  to  have  chosen  for  his  wife 
a  woman  of  active  bustling  character,  as  such 
men  not  unfrequently  do,  I  believe  I  must,  as 
in  some  other  instances,  leave  it  to  the  reader 
to  suggest  some  possible  means  by  which 
such  a  woman  may  at  all  times  control  her 
temper,  and  keep  the  peace  at  her  own  fire- 
side. 


One  thing,  however,  is  certain  in  such  a 
case — it  is  not  by  ebullitions  of  momentary 
indignation  that  an  idle  man  can  be  stimula- 
ted into  action.  So  far  from  it,  he  will  rather 
be  made  worse,  and  rendered  more  obsti- 
nately idle  by  any  direct  opposition  to  the  in- 
dulgence of  his  personal  inclinations.  What- 
ever good  is  to  be  done  in  such  a  case,  can 
only  be  effected  from  the  convictions  of  his 
own  mind,  brought  about  by  the  quiet  opera- 
tion of  affectionate  and  judicious  reasoning ; 
for  if  the  wife  should  be  unguarded  enough 
to  throw  out  reproaches  against  him,  repre- 
senting the  disgusting  nature  of  idleness  in 
its  true  colors ;  or  if  she  should  seek  to  es- 
tablish her  own  claims  to  his  exertions,  so  as 
to  convey  an  idea  of  her  arguments  tending 
to  a  selfish  end,  she  might  as  well 

"  —  go  kindle  fire  with  snow," 
as  attempt  to  rouse  her  husband  into  healthy 
and   consistent  habits  of   activity  by   such 
means. 

Here,  too,  we  might  mention  as  pre-emi- 
nent among  the  trials  of  married  life,  though 
I  question  whether  it  operates  so  immediately 
upon  the  temper  as  some  others,  the  ruinous 
propensity  inherent  in  the  nature  of  some 
men,  to  spend  their  own  money,  and  some- 
times the  money  of  their  friends,  in  vague 
speculations  and  visionary  schemes. 

The  man  who  is  possessed  with  this  mania, 
for  in  certain  cases  it  deserves  no  other  name, 
is  neither  to  be  convinced  by  argument  nor 
experience,  that  after  ninety-nine  failures,  he 
is  not  very  likely  to  succeed  the  hundredth 
time ;  and  the  wife  who  knows  that  the  main- 
tenance of  herself  and  her  family  is  entirely 
dependent  upon  him,  has  abundant  need  for 
supplies  of  strength  and  patience  beyond 
what  any  earthly  source  can  afford. 

Among  other  causes  of  irritation,  and  form- 
ing reasonable  ground  of  complaint,  is  the 
disposition  evinced  by  some  men  to  be  incon- 
siderate and  cruel  to  animals ;  and  this  I 
must  think,  is  one  of  the  cases  in  which  we 
are  recommended  to  be  angry,  and  sin  not. 
Yet  even  in  this  instance,  when.  >ve  look  at 
the  education  of  boys — and  consider  the  ab- 
sence there  is  of  all  regard  to  the  feelings  of 


TRIALS  OF  MARRIED  LIFE. 


animals,  even  in  the  minds  of  the  most  deli- 
cate females,  except  where  early  instruction 
has  given  to  this  regard  the  force  of  princi- 
ple— great  and  charitable  allowance  ought  to 
be  made  for  the  conduct  of  men  in  this  re- 
spect :  and  perhaps  the  best  and  only  means 
of  remedying  the  evil,  which  any  woman  can 
adopt,  is  to  bring  up  her  children,  if  she  be  a 
mother,  with  higher  and  more  enlightened 
views  of  the  requirements  of  Christian  duty. 

It  is  a  well-known  fact,  that  men  in  gene- 
ral appear  to  consider  themselves  justly  en- 
titled to  the  privilege  of  being  out  of  humor 
about  their  food.  Thus  the  whole  pleasure 
of  a  social  meal  is  sometimes  destroyed  by 
some  trifling  error  in  the  culinary  department, 
or  the  non-appearance  of  some  expected  in- 
dulgence. But  here  again,  our  forbearance 
is  called  into  exercise,  by  remembering  the 
probability  there  is,  that  such  men  have  had 
silly  mothers,  who  made  the  pleasures  of  their 
childhood  to  consist  chiefly  of  such  as  belong 
to  the  palate  ;  and  here  too,  if  the  wife  can- 
not remedy  this  evil,  and  in  all  probability  it 
will  be  beyond  her  power  to  do  so,  she  may, 
by  her  judicious  efforts  to  promote  the  wel- 
fare of  the  rising  generation,  impart  to  the 
youthful  minds  committed  to  her  care,  or 
subject  to  her  influence,  a  juster  estimate  of 
what  belongs  to  the  true  enjoyment  of  intel- 
lectual and  immortal  beings. 

With  all  occasions  of  domestic  derange- 
ment, such  as  washing  days,  and  other  reno- 
vations of  comfort  and  order,  some  men  of 
irritable  temperament  wage  open  and  deter- 
mined war.  But,  may  we  not  ask,  in  con- 
nection with  this  subject,  whether  their  pre- 
judices against  these  household  movements 
have  not  been  remotely  or  immediately  ex- 
cited, by  the  extreme  and  unnecessary  con- 
fusion and  disturbance  with  which  they  are 
too  frequently  accompanied]  For  I  cannot 
think  that  a  reasonable  man,  on  comparing 
an  English  home  with  a  French  one,  for  in- 
stance, would  desire  to  be  altogether  exempt 
from  such  domestic  purifications ;  and  if 
properly  managed,  so  as  to  interfere  as  little 
as  possible  with  his  personal  comfort,  and 
conducted  with  general  cheerfulness  and 


good  humor,  such  a  man  might  easily  be 
brought  to  consider  them  as  necessary  to  the 
good  of  his  household,  as  the  refreshing 
shower  is  to  the  summer  soil. 

A  causeless  and  habitual  neglect  of  punctu- 
ality  on  the  part  of  the  master  of  a  house,  is 
certainly  a  grievance  very  difficult  to  bear ; 
because  as  he  is  the  principal  person  in  the 
household,  and  the  first  to  be  considered,  the 
whole  machinery  of  domestic  management 
must  necessarily  be  dependent  upon  his 
movements ;  and  more  especially,  since  it  so 
happens,  that  persons  who  are  the  most  ac- 
customed to  keep  others  waiting,  have  the 
least  patience  to  wait  for  others.  Thus  it 
not  unfrequently  occurs,  that  a  wife  is  all  day 
urging  on  her  servants  to  a  punctual  atten- 
tion to  the  dinner-hour  appointed  by  her 
husband,  and  when  that  hour  arrives,  he  has 
either  forgotten  it  himself,  or  he  allows  some 
trifling  hindrance  to  prevent  his  returning 
home  until  one,  or  perhaps  two,  hours  later. 
Yet  the  same  man,  though  in  the  habit  of  do- 
ing this  day  after  day,  will  be  excessively  an- 
noyed, if  for  once  in  his  life  he  should  be 
punctual  to  the  appointed  time,  and  not  find 
all  things  ready  on  his  return. 

Perhaps  too  the  master  of  a  family,  on 
days  of  household  bustle,  when  extra  busi- 
ness has  to  be  done,  will  not  choose  to  rise 
so  early  as  usual ;  or  he  will  sit  reading  the 
newspaper  while  his  breakfast  waits,  and 
thus  keep  every  member  of  his  family  stand- 
ing about  unoccupied,  with  all  the  business 
of  the  day  before  them.  Or,  he  may  be  one 
of  those  who  like  that  women  should  be  al- 
ways ready  long  before  the  necessary  time, 
and  thus  habitually  name  an  hour  for  meet- 
ing, or  setting  out  from  home,  at  which  he 
has  not  the  remotest  intention  of  being  ready 
himself. 

Now,  as  the  time  of  women,  if  properly 
employed,  is  too  precious  to  be  wasted,  some- 
thing surely  may  be  done,  not  by  endeavor- 
ing to  overrule  the  movements  of  such  a 
man  so  as  to  make  him  true  to  his  own  ap- 
pointment, but  by  convincing  him,  that  com- 
mon honesty  requires  him  simply  to  .state 
the  actual  time  at  which  he  does  intend  to 


58 


THE  WIVES  OF  ENGLAND. 


be  ready.  And  here  we  see  at  once,  one  of 
those  numerous  instances  in  which  a  reason- 
able man  will  listen,  and  endeavor  to  amend ; 
while  an  unreasonable  man  will  either  not 
listen,  or  not  take  the  slightest  pains  to  im- 
prove. 

Again,  there  are  men  who  like  the  import- 
ance, and  the  feeling  of  power  and  decision 
which  it  gives  them,  to  set  out  on  a  journey 
as  if  upon  the  spur  of  the  moment,  without 
having  communicated  their  intentions  even 
to  the  wife,  who  is  most  interested  in  making 
preparations  for  such  a  movement.  And 
there  are  others,  who  when  consulted  about 
any  thing,  cannot  be  brought  to  give  either 
their  attention  or  their  advice,  so  as  to  assist 
the  judgment  of  a  wife,  who  would  gladly 
give  satisfaction  if  she  could  ;  yet  when  the 
time  to  act  upon  their  advice  is  past,  will  be- 
stow their  attention  a  little  too  severely  upon 
the  unfortunate  being,  who,  consulting  her 
own  judgment  as  the  only  guide  she  had, 
will  most  probably  have  done  exactly  what 
they  did  not  wish. 

But  it  would  be  an  endless  task,  to  go  on 
enumerating  instances  of  this  description.  I 
have  merely  mentioned  these  as  specimens 
of  the  kind  of  daily  and  hourly  trials  which 
most  women  have  to  expect  in  the  married 
state ;  and  which,  as  I  have  before  stated, 
may  be  greatly  softened  down,  if  not  entirely 
reconciled,  by  the  consideration  already  al- 
luded to.  Besides  which,  it  is  but  candid  to 
allow,  that  the  greater  proportion  of  these 
offences  against  temper  and  patience,  origin- 
ate in  one  of  those  peculiarities  in  the  charac- 
ter of  man  which  I  have  omitted  to  mention 
in  its  proper  place.  I  mean  the  incapability 
under  which  he  labors,  of  placing  himself  in 
idea  in  the  situation  of  another  person,  so  as 
to  identify  his  feelings  with  theirs,  and  thus 
to  enter  into  what  they  suffer  and  enjoy,  as 
if  the  feeling  were  his  own. 

This  capability  appears  to  be  peculiarly  a 
feminine  one,  and  it  exists  among  women  in 
so  high  a  degree,  as  to  leave  them  little  ex- 
cuse if  they  irritate  or  give  offence  to  others ; 
because  this  innate  power  which  they  possess 
of  identifying  themselves  for  the  moment 


with  another  nature,  might,  if  they  would 
use  it  for  such  a  purpose,  enable  them  not  so 
much  to  know,  as  to  feel,  when  they  were 
giving  pain,  or  awakening  displeasure.  Men, 
as  I  have  just  stated,  are  comparatively  des- 
titute of  this  power,  as  well  as  of  that  of  sym- 
pathy, to  which  it  is  so  nearly  allied.  When, 
therefore,  they  appear  to  women  so  perverse, 
and  are  consequently  so  difficult  to  bear 
with,  it  is  often  from  their  being  wholly  un- 
conscious of  the  actual  state  of  the  case ;  of 
the  long  entanglement  of  inconveniences 
which  their  thoughtless  ways  are  weaving ; 
and  consequently  of  the  wounded  feeling, 
disappointment,  and  vexation,  which  such 
thoughtlessness  not  unfrequently  inflicts  upon 
the  weaker  mind  of  woman,  when  the  whole 
framework  of  her  daily  existence  must  be 
regulated  by  the  movements  of  a  husband 
who  thinks  of  "  none  of  these  things." 

But  we  have  not  yet  sufficiently  examined 
that  one  consideration,  which  ever  remains 
to  be  weighed  in  the  balance  against  the 
trials  of  patience  arising  out  of  the  conduct 
of  men.  And  here  we  must  first  ask — have 
you  yourself  no  personal  peculiarities  exactly 
opposed  to  your  husband's  notions  of  what  is 
agreeable  1 — such  as  habits  of  disorder,  dress- 
ing in  bad  taste,  or  any  other  of  those  minor 
deviations  from  delicacy  or  good  breeding, 
which  he  might  not  have  had  an  opportunity 
of  observing  before  marriage  ] 

We  all  know  that  in  men  these  peculiari- 
ties are  of  little  importance,  compared  with 
what  they  are  in  the  other  sex.  If,  therefore, 
you  offend  in  these  things,  you  run  imminent 
risk  of  impairing,  by  a  succession  of  little  an- 
noyances, the  warmth  and  the  intensity  of 
your  husband's  affection  ;  for  man's  love,  it 
must  ever  be  remembered,  is  far  more  de- 
pendent than  that  of  woman,  upon  having 
the  taste  and  the  fancy  always  pleased,  and 
consequently  upon  reposing  with  perfect 
complacency  on  the  object  of  its  regard. 
Have  we  not  all,  then,  abundant  cause  to  be 
grateful  for  being  borne  with  in  our  infirmi- 
ties, and  loved  in  spite  of  our  personal 
defects 1 

But  if  such  peculiarities  as  these  are  of 


TRIALS  OF  MARRIED  LIFE. 


59 


sufficient  importance  to  cast  a  shadow  over 
the  sunny  spots  of  life,  what  must  we  say  of 
some  others  occasionally  observable  in  the 
character  and  conduct  of  women,  to  which 
it  is  scarcely  possible  that  much  charity  should 
be  extended]  And  here  I  would  ask,  if  you 
have  never  treasured  up  against  your  hus- 
band, some  standing  cause  of  complaint,  to 
be  thrown  at  him  when  an  opportunity  is 
offered  by  the  presence  of  a  friend,  or  a 
stranger,  for  discharging  this  weapon  from 
the  household  quiver  with  perfect  safety  to 
yourself  7  Have  you  not  upon  the  whole  pre- 
ferred having  such  grievances  to  complain 
of,  rather  than  taking  such  peaceable  and 
judicious  measures  as  would  be  likely  effect- 
ually to  accomplish  their  removal  1 

Have  you  never,  in  addition  to  this,  re- 
fused an  offer  of  personal  gratification  when 
it  was  convenient  or  agreeable  for  your  hus- 
band to  indulge  you  with  it ;  and  professed 
a  somewhat  exaggerated  desire  to  accept  of 
it,  when  the  thing  was  impossible,  or  at 
least  extremely  difficult  for  your  husband  to 
grant  1 

Have  you  never  made  the  most  of  house- 
hold troubles,  spread  forth  the  appurtenances 
of  a  wash,  allowed  the  affairs  of  the  kitchen 
to  extend  themselves  to  the  parlor,  com- 
plained unnecessarily  of  servants  and  work- 
people, and  appeared  altogether  in  your  own 
person  more  harassed,  exhausted,  and  for- 
lorn, after  your  husband's  return  home,  than 
you  did  before,  on  purpose  that  he  might  be 
compelled,  not  only  to  pity  you,  but  to  bear 
a  portion  of  your  domestic  discomfort  him- 
self! 

When  a  concatenation  of  cross  occur- 
rences, hindrances,  or  mistakes,  have  ren- 
dered every  moment  one  of  perplexity  and 
haste  ;  have  you  never,  when  involved  with 
your  husband  in  such  circumstances,  added 
fuel  to  the  fire  by  your  own  petulance,  or  by 
your  still  more  provoking  exclamations  of 
triumph,  that  you  "  thought  it  would  come 
to  that  ]"  Or,  when  your  husband  has  re- 
turned at  an  hour  considerably  later  than  he 
had  appointed,  have  you  never  begun  with 
breathless  haste  to  remonstrate  with  him, 


and  even  allowed  your  remonstrances  to  ex- 
tend to  reproaches,  before  you  gave  him  time 
to  vindicate  himself,  or  to  say  whether  he 
had  not  in  reality  been  unavoidably  detained! 

Now,  it  is  impossible  for  any  woman  of 
right  feelings  to  hide  from  her  conscience, 
that  if  she  chooses  to  marry,  she  places  her- 
self under  a  moral  obligation  to  make  her 
husband's  home  as  pleasant  to  him  as  she 
can.  Instead,  therefore,  of  behaving  as  if  it 
was  the  great  business  of  married  life  to  com- 
plain, it  is  her  peculiar  duty  as  a  wife,  and 
one  for  which,  by  her  natural  constitution, 
she  is  especially  fitted,  to  make  all  her  do- 
mestic concerns  appear  before  her  husband 
to  the  very  best  advantage.  She  has  time 
for  her  troubles  and  turmoils,  if  such  things 
must  necessarily  be,  a  fact  which  I  am  a  little 
disposed  to  question,  when  her  husband  is 
absent,  or  when  she  is  engaged  exclusively 
in  her  own  department ;  and  if  she  would 
make  his  home  what  it  ought  to  be  to  him — 
"  an  ever-sunny  place,"  she  will  studiously 
shield  him,  as  with  the  wings  of  love,  from 
the  possibility  of  feeling  that  his  domestic  an- 
noyances give  weight  and  poignancy  to  those 
more  trying  perplexities,  which  most  men, 
engaged  either  in  business,  or  in  public  af- 
fairs, find  more  than  sufficient  for  their  peace 
of  mind. 

By  those  who  write  on  the  subject  of  tem- 
per in  connection  with  the  happiness  of  mar- 
ried life,  much  is  generally  said  by  way  of 
giving  weight  to  the  importance  of  guarding 
against  {lie  first  angry  word.  But  though  it 
is  unquestionably  most  desirable  to  keep  the 
tablet  of  experience  as  long  unsullied  as  we 
can,  I  do  not  see  exactly  how  this  rule  ap- 
plies more  to  offences  of  temper,  than  to  any 
other  transgressions  of  the  law  of  perfect  love ; 
for  if  it  be  felt,  as  it  must  be,  a  breach  of  this 
law  to  utter  an  unkind  expression ;  it  is  equal- 
ly so  to  allow  any  evidence  to  appear  of  a 
disposition  to  act  counter  to  a  husband's 
wishes,  or  even  to  forget  or  neglect  what  he 
considers  essential  to  his  comfort 

Indeed,  so  various  are  the  circumstance? 
to  which  any  remarks  upon  the  subject  of 
temper  must  apply,  that  the  best  possible  plan 


60 


THE  WIVES  OF  ENGLAND. 


which  could  be  proposed  for  maintaining 
harmony  and  good  feeling  in  one  instance, 
might  be  the  worst  in  another.  As  a  case  in 
point,  there  are  unquestionably  some  individ- 
uals so  constituted,  that  if  in  a  moment  of 
irritation,  they  do  not  speak  out,  the  smoth- 
ered feeling  forcibly  pent  up,  assumes  with 
them  the  character  of  sullenness,  and  even 
approaches  to  that  of  dislike  towards  the  of- 
fender. Besides  which,  we  should  never 
know  when  we  did  offend,  and  might  conse- 
quently go  on  to  the  end  of  life  inflicting  per- 
petual annoyance  upon  our  fellow-creatures, 
if  there  were  no  outward  evidence  of  the  de- 
gree of  displeasure  which  our  inadvertences 
were  causing. 

Not  that  I  would  by  any  means  be  guilty 
of  recommending  an  approach  to  those  vio- 
lent outpourings  of  heated  and  impassioned 
feeling,  which  mark  out  some  of  the  darkest 
passages  of  human  life,"  by  the  remembrance, 
never  to  be  obliterated,  of  angry  and  cruel 
expressions  not  possible  to  be  often  repeated 
without  destroying  the  tenderness,  and  even 
the  very  life,  of  love.  What  I  would  say  on 
the  other  side  of  the  question,  is  simply  this 
— that  in  reference  to  temper,  no  general  rule 
can  be  laid  down,  scarcely  can  any  human 
aid  be  called  in,  because  of  the  diversity  of 
dispositions  upon  which  the  influence  of  tem- 
per operates,  and  the  difficulty  to  mere  hu- 
man reason  of  discovering  exactly  what  is 
best  for  every  case.  In  this,  as  in  every  other 
instance  of  human  frailty,  it  is  the  power  of 
religion  upon  the  heart  and  conduct,  which 
alone  can  afford  any  lasting  or  effectual  help. 

And  after  all,  as  the  subject  bears  upon  the 
affection  of  human  beings  one  towards  an- 
other, with  creatures  frail  as  we  are,  and  in 
a  state  of  existence  so  imperfect  as  the  pre- 
sent, it  is  not  by  an  exemption  from  all 
offences  that  the  purity  or  the  strength  of 
human  love  can  be  maintained  ;  but  far  more 
so  by  mutual  forgiveness,  by  sympathy  with 
each  other's  infirmities,  and  by  the  constant 
exercise  of  that  charity  which  thinlceth  no  evil, 
arid  which  suffereth  long,  and.  is  kind. 

But  leaving  all  further  consideration  of  the 
trials  of  temper,  as  a  subject  which  from  its 


endless  variety  might  rather  be  made  to  fill 
volumes  than  pages ;  we  must  turn  to  sub- 
jects of  a  more  serious  and  alarming  nature, 
and  among  these,  it  cannot  be  out  of  place  to 
speak  first  of  the  deterioration  of  a  husband's 
character,  as  taking  precedence  of  other  trials 
incident  to  married  life. 

I  have  already  said  there  can  be  no  calam- 
ity in  the  vast  catalogue  of  human  miseries, 
at  all  comparable  to  watching  the  gradual 
extinction  of  that  guiding  light  from  the  moral 
influence  of  a  husband,  to  which  a  wife  might 
reasonably  be  allowed  to  look  for  her  greatest 
earthly  encouragement  in  every  effort  to  ad- 
here to  the  dictates  of  duty,  or  the  require- 
ments of  Christian  principle.  Here,  then,  it 
becomes  most  important  to  inquire,  what  can 
be  done  to  stem  the  tide  of  evil,  before  it  shall 
have  borne  away  the  whole  fabric  of  domes- 
tic happiness. 

A  true-hearted  woman,  herself  impressed 
with  the  importance  of  moral  and  religious 
principle,  will  ever  be  most  studious  of  her 
husband's  safety  in  this  respect ;  and  if  her 
own  character,  and  her  own  example,  are 
such  as  to  give  wreight  to  her  remonstrances, 
there  is  no  calculating  the  degree  to  which 
her  influence  may  not  extend.  Women,  too, 
are  often  remarkably  quick-sighted  to  the 
minor  shades  of  good  and  evil ;  and  they  are 
thus  sometimes  enabled  to  detect  a  lurking 
tendency  to  what  is  wrong,  before  the  mind 
of  man  is  awakened  to  suspicion.  Even  in 
business,  then,  and  in  all  affairs  in  which  men 
are  most  liable  to  be  deluded  by  self-interest, 
and  by  the  prevailing  customs  of  the  world, 
and  thus  are  too  frequently  betrayed  into 
transactions  at  variance  with  the  spirit,  if  not 
with  the  letter,  of  the  law  of  just  and  honora- 
ble dealing ;  a  right-minded  woman  may 
sometimes  so  place  before  her  husband  the 
affair  in  which  he  is  engaged,  as  to  make 
him  see  at  once  the  error  into  which  he 
might  have  fallen  ;  and  having  seen  this 
clearly,  she  may  possibly  enjoy  the  satisfac- 
tion of  beholding  him  adopt,  throughout  his 
intercourse  with  other?,  a  more  strict  and 
equitable  rule  of  action. 

As  this  subject,  however,  in  its  highest  and 


TRIALS  OF  MARRIED  LIFE. 


61 


most  serious  import,  belongs  more  properly 
to  a  subsequent  chapter,  we  will  consider 
more  especially  two  particular  defects  in  the 
moral  character  of  men,  which  may  be  truly 
said,  wherever  they  exist,  to  constitute  the 
severest  and  most  painful  trials  of  married 
life. 

The  first  of  these  is  intemperance ;  and 
here  I  am  aware  that  my  own  views  on  this 
subject  are  scarcely  such  as  ought  to  occupy 
a  place  in  this  work  ;  not  because  I  could  not 
earnestly  recommend  them  to  the  adoption 
of  every  English  wife,  but  because,  to  do  them 
ample  justice,  I  should  be  compelled  to  fill  a 
volume. 

Intemperance,  then,  to  treat  it  as  a  com- 
mon vice,  should,  like  every  other  evil  ten- 
dency, be  watched  in  its  commencement ; 
and  here  the  eye  of  a  conscientious  and  de- 
voted wife  will  be  far  better  able  to  detect  the 
mischief,  than  his,  who,  perhaps,  in  the  se- 
cret of  his  heart,  would  rather  not  behold  it 
even  if  he  could.  I  believe  there  is  no  diffi- 
culty to  a  delicate-minded  person,  equal  to 
that  of  warning  a  beloved  friend  or  relative 
of  his  danger  in  this  respect,  else  why  do  we 
see  so  many  hundreds — nay,  thousands  look- 
ing on,  and  not  stretching  out  a  helping  hand 
until  it  is  too  late  1 

The  fact  is,  that  if  impressed  in  any  com- 
mon measure  with  a  sense  of  justice  or  of 
generosity,  we  cannot  do  it,  so  long  as  we 
ourselves  pursue  the  same  course,  only  not 
exactly  to  the  same  extent.  We  cannot  look 
into  the  face  of  a  familiar  friend,  and  say — 
"If  you  take  one  glass  more,  you  will  be 
guilty  of  a  vulgar  and  degrading  sin ;  while 
I,  by  taking  one  glass  less,  commit  no  sin  at 
all."  And  it  must  come  to  this,  where  it  is 
the  degree,  and  not  the  act  itself,  which  con- 
stitutes the  evil.  It  must  come  to  the  small- 
est possible  measurement,  to  mark  that  min- 
ute, and  ever  shifting  line,  which  separates 
an  act  allowed  and  sanctioned  by  the  wise 
and  good,  from  one  which  stamps  a  human 
being  with  infamy  in  this  world,  and  deprives 
him  of  all  title  to  admission  into  the  Uessed- 
ness  of  the  world  to  come. 

Leaving  it  then  to  women  whose  hearts 


might  have  animated  the  wives  of  Sparta,  if 
the  absence  of  all  sympathy  and  tenderness 
for  the  weak  in  their  weak  points,  may  rank 
among  the  characteristics  of  those  heroines 
of  the  past— leaving  it  to  such  women  to  sit 
down  every  day  to  an  indulgence,  which  in 
a  mere  trifle  of  extent  beyond  their  own  meas- 
ure of  gratification,  they  would  deny  to  a 
husband— I  must  candidly  confess,  that  I  am 
wholly  at  a  loss  to  know  what  to  advise, 
should  that  husband,  advancing  a  little  and 
a  little  further  by  imperceptible  degrees,  at 
last  exceed  the  bounds  of  strict  propriety, 
and  finally  hasten  on  towards  the  "drunk- 
ard's grave." 

It  is  said  again  and  again  of  such  men,  that 
they  ought  to  stop  in  time ;  but  which  is  the 
time  1  It  may  vary  according  to  the  state  of 
their  own  health,  as  well  as  with  the  nature 
of  the  refreshment  of  which  they  partake ; 
while  with  no  two  individuals  will  it  ever  be 
found  exactly  the  same.  Besides  which,  it 
must  always  be  remembered,  that  the  right 
time  to  stop,  is  the  time  when  the  intemper- 
ate man  least  wishes  to  do  so ;  because  in 
exact  proportion  to  his  danger,  has  been  his 
inability  to  perceive  it,  and  his  increase  of  in- 
clination to  go  onward  towards  excess. 

Tell  me  then,  ye  wise  and  potent  reasoners 
on  this  subject,  who  hold  yourselves  above 
the  vulgar  error  of  believing  that  total  absti- 
nence is  the  only  safe  and  efficient  means  of 
rescuing  the  tempted  man  from  ruin, — tell 
me,  or  rather  tell  the  afflicted  wife,  what  I  am 
utterly  unequal  to,  by  what  means  she  is  to 
conquer,  or  even  to  restrain,  the  habit  of  in- 
temperance in  her  husband,  except  by  in- 
ducing him  altogether  to  abstain,  and  by  ab- 
staining altogether  herself. 

One  remark,  however,  may  not  be  inap- 
propriate here,  as  it  applies  equally  to  the 
point  of  view  in  which  the  subject  has  so  long 
been  held  by  the  world  in  general,  and  to  that 
in  which  it  is  the  happier  privilege  of  some 
in  me  present  day  to  behold  it.  I  mean  that 
a  husband  should  never  be  made  the  subject 
of  reproach  for  transgressions  of  this  nature. 
If  he  be  a  man  of  feeling,-his  spirit  will  be 
sufficiently  wounded  by  a  sense  of  his  own 


02 


THE  WIVES  OF  ENGLAND. 


degradation ;  and  if  not, he  will  only  be  hard- 
ened by  such  treatment,  and  driven,  as  a 
means  of  revenging  himself,  into  still  greater 
excess. 

Indeed,  nothing  but  the  utmost  delicacy, 
forbearance,  and  gentleness,  will  ever  be 
found  to  answer  in  such  a  case  ;  and  what- 
ever means  are  employed,  they  must  be  con- 
fined in  their  operation  to  seasons  of  perfect 
sanity,  and  especially  reserved  for  those  oc- 
casions of  fitful  penitence,  which  often  suc- 
ceed to  the  most  extravagant  indulgence ; 
when,  partly  from  the  weakness  of  an  ex- 
hausted frame,  and  partly  from  the  satiety 
of  inclination,  the  victim  of  intemperance 
will  sometimes  throw  open  his  heart  to  a 
confidential  friend,  whose  kind  and  judicious 
treatment  of  him  at  such  times,  may  not  im- 
probably be  rendered  conducive  to  his  ulti- 
mate recovery. 

Here,  too,  much  may  be  done  by  making 
his  home  all  that  it  ought  to  be  to  a  husband, 
by  receiving  him  on  his  return  with  cordial 
smiles,  by  amusing  him  with  pleasant  conver- 
sation, but,  more  than  all,  by  exercising  over 
him,  in  a  mild  and  prudent  manner,  that  in- 
fluence which  it  is  the  high  privilege  of  a 
loved  and  trusted  wife  to  attain. 

Could  all  women  who  encourage  their  hus- 
bands in  the  commencement  of  intemperance, 
not  only  by  smiling  with  evident  satisfaction 
at  any  extraordinary  proofs  of  good  humor 
or  excitement  as  they  begin  to  appear,  but 
beyond  this,  and  far  more  effectually,  by  their 
own  example — could  all  such  women  "  look 
to  the  end,"  and  see  the  bitter  fruits  of  this 
trifling  with  the  serious  indications  of  a  grow- 
ing evil,  they  would  stand  appalled  at  the 
magnitude  of  their  own  sufferings,  in  having 
to  watch  from  day  to  day,  through  their  fu- 
ture lives,  the  gradual  extinction  of  all  they 
had  ever  loved  in  the  being  to  whom  they 
must  jtillbe  united.  They  would  see  then 
how  thevery  countenance  may  lose  its  beau- 
ty, and  like  some  hideous  form  that  grows 
upon  us  in  a  feverish  dream,  assume  first  one 
aspect  of  distortion,  and  then  another,  until 
all  trace  becomes  extinct  of  the  "divinity" 
that  stirred  "within."  They  would  see  then 


what  an  awful  wreck  is  that  presented  by  a 
lost  and  polluted  mind;  and  they  would  feel, 
in  all  its  reality,  what  it  is  to  be  desolate  and 
alone.  For  the  woman  thus  circumstanced 
must  not  complain.  She  must  not  ask  for 
sympathy,  for  that  would  be  to  expose  the 
folly  and  disgrace  of  him,  about  whom  her 
hopes  still  linger;  over  whose  degraded 
brow  she  would  still  fondly  spread  the  soft 
shadow  of  her  tenderness,  that  no  ray  of 
piercing  light  might  reach  it,  to  render  more 
conspicuous  its  deformity  and  its  shame. 
No  ;  she  can  only  lock  her  griefs  within  her 
own  bosom,  and  be  still. 

It  must  be  from  ignorance,  for  the  phe- 
nomenon is  not  to  be  accounted  for  in  any 
other  way  than  on  the  ground  of  ignorance 
of  what  is  to  be  found  in  human  life,  as  well 
as  what  is  the  capability  of  the  human  heart 
for  suffering  and  enjoying,  which  leads  so 
many  kindly-disposed  and  well-intentioned 
women  into  such  culpable  neglect  of  points 
connected  with  this  important  subject 

One  would  willingly  believe  it  was  because 
they  had  never,  even  in  idea,  realized  what 
it  must  be  to  live  through  one  long  night  of 
anxious  expectation,  when  the  crisis  of  a 
husband's  fate  had  come,  and  when  that  sin- 
gle night  would  decide  whether  he  had  suf- 
ficient mastery  over  himself  to  resist,  or 
whether  he  would  allow  his  inclination  to 
lead  him  for  the  last  time  over  the  barrier, 
and  finally  to  plunge  himself  and  his  helpless 
family  into  irremediable  wretchedness  and 
ruin. 

It  is  in  such  seasons  as  these,  that  every 
moment  is  indeed  an  age,  and  every  pulse 
like  an  advancing  or  receding  wave,  which 
falls  with  heavy  swell  upon  the  shore  of  life. 
And  then  what  sharpening  of  the  outward 
senses ! — what  quickening  of  the  ear  to  dis- 
tant sounds,  giving  to  that  which  lives  not,  a 
vitality,  until  the  very  step  is  heard,  and  then 
— another  wave  of  the  fast-ebbing  tide,  and 
all  is  gone,  and  all  is  silent  as  before.  The 
eye,  too,  though  dim  with  tears,  and  wearied 
out  with  watching,  what  does  it  not  behold ! 
— creating  out  of  "  strange  combinations"  of 
familiar  things,  some  sudden  and  unexpected 


TRIALS  OF   MARRIED  LIFE. 


63 


evidence  that  he  has  returned  !  Yes,  already 
come  !  Then  follows  an  instantaneous  flash 
of  self-reproach  for  having  judged  him  with 
too  little  kindness.  But,  no;  the  vision 
fades  away,  and  with  it  sinks  the  heart  of  the 
too  credulous  believer. 

And  if  such  be  the  quickening  of  the  out- 
ward senses,  what  must  be  that  of  the  differ- 
ent faculties  of  the  mind] — of  memory, 
whose  cruel  task  it  is  through  those  long 
weary  hours,  to  paint  the  smiling  past,  to 
make  it  live  again  with  such  intensity  of 
loveliness,  that  while  no  actual  form  intrudes, 
nor  actual  sound  breaks  through  the  chain  of 
thought,  the  phantasy  grows  real ;  and  old 
impressions  wake  again,  and  voices  speak 
so  kindly,  and  cordial  looks,  and  gentle  loving 
acts,  are  interchanged,  and  pure  soft  feelings 
towards  each  other,  as  in  those  early  days 
when  the  sweet  "  trysting  time"  was  kept, 
and  hope  made  light  of  expectation.  Oh, 
agony !  It  is  a  dream — a  very  dream. 
Nay,  worse — the  vision  of  the  sleeper  may 
return ;  but  this  can  never — never  live 
again. 

There  is  no  credulity  like  that  of  love. 
However  dark  may  be  the  fear  which  alter- 
nates with  hope  in  the  mind  of  her  who  is 
thus  situated,  she  has,  under  all,  and  support- 
ing her  through  all  the  deep  foundation  of 
her  own  unchanging  love — that  love  which 
is  strong  as  death.  And  by  the  same  com- 
prehensive rule,  which  to  her  includes  in  one 
close  union  every  faculty  and  feeling  of  her 
soul — by  this  rule  she  judges  of  her  husband, 
and  calculates  the  probability  of  his  return. 
By  this  rule  it  is  impossible  that  he  should 
forget  her  prayers,  and  her  entreaties,  her 
sorrow,  her  suffering,  and  her  tears.  By 
this  rule,  then,  he  must  of  necessity  remem- 
ber her  in  that  gay  circle,  even  when  its  mirth 
and  its  revelry  are  at  their  height.  She  has 
wronged  him — deeply  wronged  him,  to  think 
he  could  forget.  Another  hour  will  find  him 
by  her  side,  repaying,  Oh,  how  richly  !  all 
her  anxious  fears. 

With  these  sweet  thoughts,  she  rises  and 
trims  her  fire  again,  and  draws  her  husband's 
chair  beside  the  hearth,  bethinking  her,  with 


joyous  recollection,  of  some  other  little  acts 
of  kindness  by  which  she  may  possibly  be 
able  to  make  his  home  look  more  attractive. 
But  still  he  comes  not ;  and  that  strange  sick? 
ness  of  the  heart  begins  again,  and  creeps 
along  her  frame,  until  her  very  fingers  ache 
with  anguish  ;  and  tremblingly  her  hands  are 
clasped  together,  and  were  it  not  for  prayer, 
her  heart  would  surely  break  with  its  strong 
agony  ;  for  still  he  comes  not  Yet,— slowly 
as  the  heavy  hours  drag  on,  the  midnight 
chime  at  last  is  heard,  that  solemn  peal,  which 
tells  to  some  its  tale  of  peace,  of  safety,  and 
of  home ;  while  it  speaks  to  others  but  of 
darkness,  desolation,  and  despair. 

But  who  shall  fill  from  one  sad  moment  to 
another  the  page  of  busy  thought,  or  paint 
the  ever-shifting  scenes  which  flit  before  the 
lonely  watcher's  mind  1  Another  hour,  and 
still  he  comes  not— Yet  hark !  It  is  his  step 
— She  flies  to  meet  him — Let  us  close  a  scene 
for  which  earth  holds  no  parallel ;  for  here 
are  mingled,  horror,  shame,  repulsion  and 
contempt,  with  a  soft  tenderness  like  that  of 
some  sad  mother  for  her  idiot  child — joy  that 
the  shrouding  wings  of  love  once  more  can 
shelter  him — bliss  that  no  other  eye  but  hers 
is  there  to  see — kind  yearning  thoughts  of 
care  to  keep  him  in  his  helplessness  from 
every  touch  of  harm — feelings  so  gentle,  yet 
so  powerful,  of  a  strange  gladness  to  be 
near  him  in  his  degradation — to  press  the 
hand  which  no  one  else  in  the  wide  world 
would  hold — to  kiss  the  brow  which  has  no 
trace  of  beauty  left !  And  to  do  this,  night 
after  night — to  live  through  all  the  changes 
of  this  scene,  through  months  and  years,  only 
with  less  of  hope,  and  more  of  anguish  and 
despair ! 

Such  is  the  picture  not  exaggerated,  for 
that  would  be  impossible,  of  one  short  portion 
in  the  experience  of  how  many  women  !  We 
cannot  number  them.  They'  are  to  be  met 
with  in  society  of  every  grade,  and  yet  soci- 
ety for  the  most  part  can  rest  satisfied  to  do 
nothing  more  than  pity  them.  Nor  scarcely 
that ;  for  the  same  voice  which  speaks  with 
feeble  lamentations  of  the  suffering  of  the 
wife,  will  often  press  the  husband  to  the  fes- 


64 


THE  WIVES  OF  ENGLAND. 


tive,  board,  and  praise  the  sparkling  wine, 
and  urge  him  to  partake. 

But  it  is  time  to  turn  our  attention  to  the 
^contemplation  of  another  of  the  trials  of  mar- 
ried life,  of  which  it  is  to  be  hoped  that  few 
who  read  these  pages,  will  have  any  cause  to 
think  with  reference  to  themselves.  It  may 
be  said,  "  Why  then  remind  them  of  the  pos- 
sibility that  such  causes  of  trial  may,  or  do, 
exist  1"  I  answer,  that  although  the  extreme 
of  the  case  to  which  I  am  about  to  allude,  is, 
happily  for  us,  comparatively  seldom  known 
among  respectable  families  in  the  middle 
ranks  of  life  in  England ;  yet,  there  are  de- 
grees of  proximity  to  these  extremes,  existing 
sometimes  where  we  should  least  expect  to 
find  the  cheerful  aspect  of  domestic  life  cast 
under  such  a  cloud. 

In  reflecting  seriously  and  impartially  upon 
the  love  of  married  life,  we  must  all  be  forci- 
bly impressed  with  the  fact,  that  the  love 
which  is  most  frequently  presented  to  the 
notice  of  the  observer,  is  far  from  being  such 
as  we  ourselves  should  be  satisfied  to  pos- 
sess ;  or,  at  all  events,  not  such  as  women  of 
deep  and  sensitive  feelings  would  expect  to 
meet  with  in  the  married  state.  It  is  true, 
there  are  instances,  and  they  can  scarcely  be 
dwelt  upon  with  too  much  admiration,  where 
the  love  of  married  life,  in  all  its  imperishable 
beauty,  outlives  the  bloom  of  youth,  and  sheds 
a  radiance  like  the  sunset  glow  of  evening, 
around  the  peaceful  passage  of  old  age  to- 
wards the  tomb.  And  were  it  not  that  in 
such  instances,  we  see  the  possibility  of 
earthly  love  being  kept  in  all  its  vigor  and  its 
freshness,  uninjured  by  the  lapse  of  time,  it 
would  be  useless  to  follow  up  the  inquiry 
every  married  woman  ought  to  make — by 
what  means  is  this  love  to  be  preserved  ? 

If  in  speaking  of  the  peculiar  trial  about  to 
occupy  our  attention,  I  use  the  word  unfaith- 
fulness, to  signify  my  meaning,  it  is  less  in 
reference  to  those  extremes  of  moral  delin- 
quency which  sometimes  stain  the  history  of 
private,  as  well  as  public  life,  than  to  those 
slighter  shades  of  the  same  character,  which 
more  frequently  flit  across  the  surface  of  do- 
mestic peaoe  ;  or,  what  is  still  more  lament- 


able, remain  to  cloud  the  atmosphere  of  home- 
enjoyment,  until  the  whole  experience  of 
married  life  becomes  as  dull,  and  soulless, 
and  devoid  of  interest,  as  if  the  union  was 
simply  one  of  habit  or  convenience,  endured 
with  mutual  indifference,  yet  dragged  on  with 
decency  and  something  like  respect,  because 
it  was  "so  nominated  in  the  bond." 

But  is  it  right  that  creatures  endowed  with 
capabilities  for  the  highest  and  holiest  enjoy- 
ment, should  be  satisfied  with  this  1  Nay,  is 
it  possible  that  happiness  of  so  low  a  grade, 
if  one  may  call  it  such,  can  fill  the  heart 
whose  quick  susceptibilities,  whose  trembling 
emotions,  and  whose  living  depths,  have  been 
formed  to  answer,  and  to  echo  every  touch 
and  tone  of  feeling,  from  the  highest  thrill  of 
ecstasy,  down  to  the  lowest  notes  of  wo  1  No : 
if  we  are  reckless  how  we  turn  from  its  high 
destiny,  a  nature  thus  endowed ;  if  we  will 
thus  sink  the  immortal  in  the  material,  so  as 
merely  to  work  out  with  mechanical  precision 
the  business  of  each  day,  in  which  the  animal 
nature  holds  pre-eminence  over  the  spiritual, 
we  must  not  venture  to  complain  that  life  is 
vapid  and  monotonous,  or  that  there  is  little 
in  this  world  to  remind  us  of  that  blessedness 
which  is  promised  as  the  portion  of  the  hap- 
py in  the  next 

•Whatever  we  aim  to  possess  as  a  privilege 
even  in  this  life,  let  it  then  be  of  the  highest 
order ;  and  having  attained  our  wish,  let  us 
seek  to  preserve  that  privilege  unimpaired. 
That  which  elevates  the  soul  in  its  capability 
of  enjoyment,  is  always  worthy  of  our  care  ; 
while  that  which  lowers  it,  is  always  to  be 
shunned  and  feared.  In  nothing  is  this  more 
important  to  be  observed,  than  in  the  preser- 
vation of  earthly  love.  That  which  degrades 
the  standard  of  affection,  degrades  the  whole 
being ;  and  that  which  raises  this  standard, 
raises  also  every  faculty  which  can  be  con- 
nected either  immediately  or  remotely  with 
the  exercise  of  the  affections. 

I  have  already  described,  in  some  particu- 
lars, how  that  best  gift  of  Providence,  the 
love  of  a  faithful  and  devoted  husband,  is  to 
be  preserved.  We  have  now  the  painful 
task  of  supposing  that  it  has  been  allowed, 


TRIALS  OF  MARRIED  LIFE. 


65 


by  some  means  or  other,  to  fall  away.  There 
are  faint  and  frequent  symptoms  of  this  de- 
cline, of  which  the  judgment  takes  no  cogni- 
zance, until  after  the  heart  has  been  made  to 
feel  them ;  and  although  I  have  already  al- 
luded to  the  folly  and  the  danger  of  volunta- 
rily looking  out  for  such  symptoms  where 
there  is  no  reason  to  suppose  they  exist,  there 
may  be  equal,  if  not  greater  danger,  in  disre- 
garding them  where  they  do. 

I  will  only  mention  as  the  fipst  of  these 
symptoms,  an  increased  tendency  on  the  part 
of  the  husband  to  be  repelled  or  annoyed  by 
little  personal  peculiarities.  And  here  it  may 
be  observed,  that  almost  every  impression 
injurious  to  the  love  of  man  in  married  life, 
is  personal  or  immediate,  rather  than  remote. 
Thus  a  husband  will  more  easily  forgive  his 
wife  for  an  act  of  moral  culpability,  provided 
it  has  no  reference  to  himself,  man  for  the 
least  personal  affront,  or  the  slightest  occasion 
for  even  a  momentary  sensation  of  disgust. 
It  consequently  happens,  that  when  affection 
begins  to  wane,  the  husband  often  becomes 
annoyed  with  the  voice,  the  manner,  the  dress 
of  his  wife,  more  than  he  is  with  those  of 
other  women.  She  has,  then,  some  peculiar 
way  of  doing  every  thing  which  seems  to  jar 
upon  his  senses ;  and  in  time  he  ceases  so 
entirely  to  look,  to  listen,  or  to  linger  near 
her,  that  unless  more  than  commonly  obtuse, 
she  must  be  made  to  feel  that  she  has  lost 
her  power  to  charm  him,  and  when  that  is 
lost — alas,  for  the  poor  wife  ! 

Still  we  must  not  forget,  that  there  are  two 
kinds  of  unfaithfulness,  the  one  arising  entire- 
ly from  estranged  affection ;  and  the  other 
from  attraction  towards  a  different  object.  In 
the  latter  case  it  does  not  always  follow  that 
affection  for  the  wife  shall  have  become  ex- 
tinct, and  therefore  there  is  hope ;  but,  in  the 
former,  the  fact  that  man's  love  when  once 
destroyed  is  destroyed  forever,  excludes  all 
possibility  of  consolation,  except  from  a  high- 
er and  a  surer  source.  As  well  might  the 
mourner  weeping  for  the  dead,  expect  by 
tears  and  lamentations  to  reanimate  the  life- 
less form ;  as  the  unloved  wife  to  recall  the 
affection  of  her  husband,  after  the  bloom  and 


tenderness  of  his  love  is  gone.  Who  then 
would  incur  the  risk  of  so  vast  and  irrepa- 
rable a  loss,  by  a  neglect  of  those  personal  at- 
tractions by  which  it  was  her  study  in  early 
life  to  charm?  Who  would  allow  a  careless 
or  negligent  demeanor  to  impress  her  hus- 
band's mind  with  the  conviction,  that  he  was 
not  in  her  estimation  of  sufficient  importance 
to  make  it  worth  her  while  to  please  ?  or  who 
would  be  willing  that  the  powers  of  her  rnind 
should  fall  into  disuse,  when  they  might  in 
their  happiest  and  yet  most  natural  exercise, 
be  made  conducive  to  the  one  great  end  of 
increasing  her  husband's  interest  in  his  home  ? 

To  feel  herself  an  unequal  companion  to 
the  being  whom  of  all  others  she  would  most 
wish  to  please,  to  have  never  cultivated  her 
powers  of  conversation,  and  to  be  conscious 
that  her  society  is  vapid  and  uninteresting, 
must  be  one  of  the  most  painful  and  humilia- 
ting feelings  to  which  an  amiable  woman  can 
be  subject :  but  to  see,  what  is  very  natural 
in  such  a  case,  that  others  have  a  power 
which  she  has  not,  to  call  forth  the  higher 
faculties  of  her  husband's  mind,  to  elevate 
his  thoughts,  to  charm  his  fancy,  and  to  en- 
liven his  spirits ! — Surely  if  the  daughters  of 
England  could  realize  by  any  exercise  of  their 
imagination,  the  full  intensity  of  feelings  such 
as  these,  they  would  cease  to  be  careless 
about  the  cultivation  of  those  means  of  pro- 
moting social  and  domestic  happiness,  with 
which  every  woman  who  enters  upon  the 
duties  of  a  wife,  ought  to  make  herself  ac- 
quainted. 

But  beyond  this  vague  and  general  feeling 
of  being  neglected,  and  this  incapacity  for 
doing  any  thing  to  avert  so  desolate  a  doom, 
it  sometimes  happens  that  there  is  real  cause 
to  suspect  a  transfer  of  the  husband's  interest 
and  affection  to  another.  And  although  no- 
thing can  be  more  destructive  to  the  happi- 
ness of  married  life,  or  more  at  variance  with 
the  nature  of  true  and  deep  affection,  than  a 
predisposition  to  suspicion  on  these  points; 
yet  where  the  case  is  too  evident  to  admit  of 
doubt,  it  would  evince  a  culpable  indifference 
in  the  wife  who  could  suffer  it  to  remain  un- 
noticed. 


86 


THE  WIVES  OF  ENGLAND. 


Here,  however,  if  ever  in  the  whole  range 
of  human  experience,  it  is  necessary  to  act 
with  delicacy  and  caution.    It  is  necessary, 
in  the  first  place,  to  be  sure.    In  the  next,  no 
selfish  motive,  no  indignant  feeling,  no  dis- 
position to  revenge,  must  mingle  with  what 
is  said  or  done  on  fo  melancholy  and  mo- 
mentous an  occasion ;  for  though  the  dignity 
of  virtue,  and  the  purity  of  the  female  char- 
acter, as  well  as  the  temporal  and  eternal 
good  of  the  offender,  alike  require  that  some 
decided  measures  should  be  adopted  to  avert 
the  evil;  the  wife  herself  must  not  forget, 
that  under  such  circumstances  she  possesses 
no  other  than  a  legal  claim — that,  as  a  being 
to  be  cherished  and  beloved,  she  is  utterly 
discarded  from  her  husband's  heart — that 
scarcely  is  his  home  her  own — that  her  re- 
spectability, her  position  in  society,  all  that  in 
which  an  honored  and  a  trusted  wife  delights, 
are  only  nominally  hers ;  and  that  she  is  in 
reality,  or  rather,  in  all  which  belongs  to  the 
true  feelings  of  a  woman,  a  low,  lost  thing, 
more  lonely,  pitiable,  and  degraded,  than  the 
veriest  outcast  from  society  who  still  retains 
a  hold  upon  her  husband's  iove.  What,  then, 
are  admiration,  wealth,  or  fame,  to  such  a 
woman  ?     Society,  even  though  she  were  its 
idol,  would  have  no  power  to  flatter  her ; 
nor  could  the  wide  world,  with  all  its  congre- 
gated  millions,  awake  within  her  desolate 
bosom  a  single  thrill  of  pride.    No,  there  is 
nothing  but  uncomplaining  loneliness,  and 
utter  self-abasement,  for  the  portion  of  that 
wife  who  cannot  keep  her  husband's  heart ! 
It  is  in  this  spirit  alone,  that  with  any  pro- 
priety or  any  hope,  she  can  appeal  to  a  hus- 
band's feelings,  carefully  guarding  against  al 
expression  of  tenderness,  no  longer  welcome 
or  desired ;  and  keeping,  as  it  were,  aloof  in 
her  humility  ;  yet  withal,  casting  herself  upon 
his  pity,  as  one  who  is  struck  down  by  a  be- 
loved hand,  will  kiss  the  instrument  of  her 
abasement;  putting  aside  all  selfish  claims 
as  indeed  she  must ;  and  making  it  evident 
that  though  her  own  happiness  is  wrecked 
for  ever,  she  cannot  live  without  a  hope,  nor 
breathe  without  a  prayer,  for  him. 


And  surely,  if  all  this  is  carried  out  to  the 

ull  extent  of  woman's  delicacy,  disinterest- 

dness,  and  truth ;  and  if  accompanied  by 

arnest  and  unceasing  prayer  for  that  help 

which  no  human  power  can  then  afford — 

mrely,  towards  a  wife  thus  suffering  and  sin- 

:ere,  the  husband  whose  heart  is  not  yet 

wholly  depraved",  could  scarcely  withhold  his 

)ity,  his  protection,  and  his  love  ! 

And  if  the  husband  should  relent,  if  he 
should  renounce  the  object  of  attraction  to 
lis  wandering  fancy,  though  nothing  can  ob- 
iterate  the  past,  or  break  the  chain  of  asso- 
ciation between  that  and  the  thousand  appre- 
lensions  which  must  of  necessity  link  them- 
selves into  the  sad  future ;  all  these  dark 
thoughts  must  be  concealed  within  her  bo- 
som, intojwhose  secret  counsels,  and  more 
.secret  firiefe,  no  earthly  friend  must  be  ad- 
i'.rd.  Xt-iihcr  must  sadness  cloud  her 
jrow,  nor  any  lurking  suspicion  betray  itself 
upon  the  smooth  surface  of  her  after-life,  but 
vivacity  and  cheerfulness  again  must  charm ; 
while  a  manner  disengaged,  and  a  mind  at 
liberty  to  please,  and  receive  pleasure  in  re- 
turn, must  prove  the  mastery  of  principle 
over  impulse — of  affection  over  self. 

If  with  a  wife  thus  circumstanced,  the 
power  to  forget  should  appear  the  greatest 
mercy  a  kind  Pravidence  could  bestow  ;  and 
if  this  mercy  being  denied,  the  aspect  of  her 
life  should  look  too  dark  to  be  endured,  she 
must  not  forget  that  one  earthly  consolation 
yet  remains — it  is  that  of  having  kept  her 
own  affection  unchanged  and  true  :  and  oil ! 
howinfinitely preferable  is  the  feeling  ofliavt 
ing  borne  unfaithfulness,  than  o/ having  been 
ainfaitn'ful  ourselves  \  ""  •• 
V  But  beyond,  and~lar  above  such  consola- 
tion, is  that  of  being  remembered  in  her  los 
and  low  estate,  by  Him  who  chasteneth  whom 
he  loceth ;  of  being  permitted  in  her  degrada- 
tion to  come  and  offer  up  her  broken  hear 
to  Him  ;  when  deprived  of  every  other  stay 
to  call  Him  father,  and  to  ask  in  humble  faith 
the  fulfilment  of  His  gracious  promise  of 
protection  to  those  who  put  their  trust  in 
Him. 


POSITION  IN  SOCIETY. 


67 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

POSITION   IN   SOCIETY. 

IN  a  previous  work,  addressed  to  the 
"Daughters  of  England,"  I  have  proposed 
as  the  first  serious  inquiry  of  a  thinking  mind, 
that  all  young  persons  entering  upon  the  ac- 
tive duties  of  life,  should  ask  this  question— 
what  is  my  actual  position  1  And  if  in  the 
season  of  early  youth  this  question  is  import- 
ant, it  is  equally,  if  not  more  so,  immediately 
after  marriage,  especially  as  the  position  of  a 
woman  must  always  depend  upon  that  of  her 
husband,  where  society  is  so  constituted  that 
a  man  may  raise  or  lower  his  wife,  though 
no  woman,  except  in  very  peculiar  cases, 
can  effect  any  material  alteration  in  the  rank 
or  station  of  her  husband. 

Thus  it  is  highly  important,  in  taking  upon 
herself  the  duties  of  a  new  home,  that  the 
wife  should  ascertain  precisely  what  is  her 
position  with  regard  to  those  with  whom  she 
associates ;  for  there  is  as  great  a  deviation 
from  good  sense,  integrity,  and  right  feeling, 
in  being  servile  to  the  great,  as  in  being 
haughty  to  the  poor. 

But  it  is  impossible  to  enter  upon  this  sub- 
ject, without  being  afresh  reminded  of  one 
of  those  inconsistencies  which  mark  the  gen- 
eral tone  of  feeling  and  habit  in  society  of 
the  middle  ranks  in  England.  I  mean  a 
striking  inequality  between  the  degree  of  re- 
finement, self-indulgence,  and  luxury,  existing 
among  men,  and  that  which  is  generally 
found  among  women  of  the  same  rank.  In 
families  whose  dependence  is  entirely  upon 
business,  this  is  especially  the  case,  at  least 
in  our  large  towns  and  cities ;  for,  while  the 
sons  are  sent  out  at  an  early  age,  to  engage 
in  all  the  drudgery  of  the  shop  or  the  ware- 
house, the  daughters  remain  at  home,  not 
unfrequently  the  occupants  of  elegant  draw- 
ing-rooms, with  little  else  to  do  than  practise 
their  music  lessons,  manufacture  their  wax- 
flowers,  or  pursue,  according  to  the  popular 
notions  of  the  day,  those  various  and  infallible 
methods  of  renovating  a  feeble  constitution, 
which,  in  nine  cases  out  of  ten,  in  reality 
wants  nothing  more  than  a  little  wholesome 


activity  to  render  it  as  strong  as  either  hap- 
piness or  usefulness  require. 

Now,  though  it  is  far  from  the  wish  of  the 
writer  to  wage  war  against  any  of  those  in- 
genious occupations  which  fill  up  the  spare 
time  of  young  ladies  in  general,  provided  such 
occupations  are  kept  in  their  proper  place, 
and  made  to  fill  up  spare  time  only ;  yet, 
against  the  morbid  feelings  both  of  mind  and 
body,  which  are  engendered  by  a  life  of  mere 
trifling,  all  who  wish  well  to  the  sex,  both  in 
this  and  other  countries,  must  feel  it  a  sacred 
duty  to  use  such  influence  as  they  possess. 

It  is,  however,  the  foolish  pride,  and  the 
false  notions  of  what  is,  or  is  not,  becoming, 
naturally  arising  out  of  the  state  of  existence 
to  which  our  young  ladies  of  the  middle  class 
of  society  in  England  are  consigned,  which, 
more  than  any  thing  else,  interfere  with  their 
happiness,  and  prevent  their  being  in  reality 
either  a  help,  or  a  comfort,  to  the  companions 
whose  lot  they  are  bound  to  share  for  life. 

England  as  a  nation  has  little  to  boast  of 
beyond  her  intellectual  and  her  moral  power. 
It  is  in  this  that  her  superiority  is  felt  and 
acknowledged  by  the  world ;  and  in  this  it 
might  almost  be  allowed  her  to  indulge  a 
sort  of  honest  pride.  That  this  power  is 
chiefly  lodged  'with  the  middle  classes,  I 
think  all  have  agreed ;  and  that,  originating 
in  them,  it  is  made  to  operate  more  exten- 
sively through  the  efficient  instrumentality 
of  a  comparatively  well-ordered  and  wisely 
governed  population  of  working  people. 

What  then  would  England  gain  indivi- 
dually or  collectively,  by  the  middle  classes 
aspiring  upwards  to  imitate  the  manners, 
and  adopt  the  customs  of  the  aristocracy ! 
No ;  let  her  shopkeepers  be  shopkeepers 
still — her  farmers,  farmers — and  the  wives 
and  daughters  of  such  honest,  manly,  and 
honorable  citizens  of  the  world,  let  them  no 
longer  blush  to  owe  the  comfort  of  their 
homes  to  the  profits  of  a  well-conducted 
trade. 

To  say  nothing  of  the  want  of  right  sub- 
mission to  the  will  of  Providence,  evinced  by 
being  foolishly  above  the  situation  we  are 
1  born  to ;  it  is  in  my  opinion  a  sort  of  rebel- 


68 


THE  WIVES  OF  ENGLAND. 


lion,  or  rather  treachery,  against  the  welfare 
of  our  country,  to  be  thus  unwilling  to  main- 
tain, what  future  ages  will  agree  to  have  been 
the  glory  of  the  times  in  which  we  live. 

Besides  which,  it  requires  but  little  know- 
ledge, but  little  observation  of  society  in  other 
countries,  and  but  little  acquaintance  with 
the  world  in  general,  to  see  that  those  dis- 
tinctions which  give  to  one  occupation  so 
much  more  dignity  than  another,  must  be 
purely  conventional.  Let  us  look,  as  an  in- 
stance of  this,  at  the  vast  difference  we  make 
in  our  notions  of  gentility  between  wholesale 
and  retail  business.  And  though  a  man  of 
noble  birth,  as  he  drives  by  necessity  through 
the  bustling  streets  of  London,  would  smile 
at  the  idea  that  trade  was  not  a  degradation 
of  itself  sufficient  to  exclude  all  notion  of  de- 
gree ;  yet  the  tradesman  living  at  his  shop 
knows  perfectly  well,  that  his  wife  and  daugh- 
ters have  no  right  to  visit  with  the  wife  and 
daughters  of  him  who  keeps  his  country 
house,  and  sells  en  masse,  from  some  dark 
warehouse  in  the  city,  the  self-same  articles 
in  which  the  other  deals. 

Still  these  distinctions,  strongly  and  clearly 
as  they  are  occasionally  impressed  upon  the 
inferior  classes,  become  sometimes  a  little  in- 
tricate, as  wealth  enables  its  possessor  to  'ad- 
vance in  the  scale  of  luxury  and  indulgence. 
When  the  city  shopkeeper,  for  instance,  ob- 
tains sufficient  to  enable  him  to  settle  in  his 
rural  villa,  from  whence  he  issues  every 
morning  to  his  counting-house  in  town,  the 
wife  and  daughters  who  remain  to  set  the 
fashions  of  the  village  where  they  live — how 
immeasurably  far  are  they  from  holding  in- 
tercourse with  any  of  the  shopkeepers  there ! 
Even  when  affairs  connected  with  the  wel- 
fare of  the  neighborhood  reader  it  necessary 
to  call  upon  the  shopkeeper's  wife,  they  meet 
her  in  a  manner  the  most  distant,  and  the 
most  unlike  what  could  by  any  possibility  be 
construed  into  friendship. 

But  in  order  to  see  more  clearly  the  perfect 
absurdity  of  such  distinctions,  we  have  only 
to  make  a  sudden  transition  of  thought  to 
the  state  of  a  new  colony,  on  some  uncivil- 
ized and  distant  shore  ;  and  ask  what  differ- 


ence any  one  would  think  of  making  there, 
between  the  member  of  that  little  community 
who  should  prepare  the  skins  of  wild  animals 
for  general  use,  and  him  who  should  manu- 
facture such  skins  into  articles  of  wearing 
apparel]  or  who  would  pronounce  upon  the 
inferiority  of  occupation  in  him  who  should 
employ  himself  each  day  in  catering  for  a 
single  meal,  to  that  of  him  who  should,  in  a 
longer  space  of  time,  provide  for  many  meals 
together  ] 

That  the  man  who  held  tho  reins  of  gov- 
ernment over  such  a  community,  would 
merit  some  distinction,  I  am  free  to  allow, 
because  his  situation  would  be  one  to  which 
he  must  have  risen  either  by  his  own  superi- 
ority of  mind,  or  by  the  unanimous  consent 
of  the  rest,  who  agreed,  at  the  time  they  ap- 
pointed him  to  the  office,  to  evince  towards 
him  the  respect  which  is  always  due  to  influ- 
ence rightly  exercised.  In  the  same  manner, 
and  according  to  their  different  degrees  of 
capability,  many  of  the  others  would,  no 
doubt,  work  their  way  to  offices  of  responsi- 
bility and  trust,  instituted  for  the  good  of  the 
whole  body,  and  each  entitled  to  its  share  of 
respect  and  confidence.  But  that  working 
in  one  material  more  than  another,  handling 
one  article  of  food  or  apparel,  or  even  deal- 
ing in  a  large  or  a  small  way,  with  those 
who  buy  and  sell,  should  be  able  to  create 
distinctions  of  such  importance  as  to  sepa- 
rate society  into  mere  fractions,  or  to  invest 
one  party  with  honor,  and  cast  odium  upon 
the  other,  is  a  phenomenon  which  has  been 
left  for  the  enlightened  stage  of  civilization  in 
which  we  live,  fully  to  develop,  though  the 
march  of  intellect  has  hitherto  failed  to  re- 
duce the  whole  to  a  system,  so  as  to  be  un- 
derstood and  acted  upon  with  any  degree  of 
certainty  and  precision. 

It  may  be  said,  and  perhaps  with  too  much 
truth,  that  the  business  of  shopkeeping,  as  it 
is  generally  conducted,  has  little  tendency  to 
ennoble  the  character ;  and  that  perpetually 
striving  to  please  for  purposes  of  self-interest, 
those  who  in  reality  are  sometimes  cordially 
despised,  is  lowering  to  the  dignity  of  a  man, 
to  say  nothing  of  a  gentleman. 


POSITION  IN  SOCIETY. 


[t  may  be  asked,  on  the  other  hand,  who, 
in  the  present  state  of  society,  is  exempt 
from  this  particular  kind  of  degradation? 
The  lawyer,  who  may  be  said  almost  to  hold 
the  destinies  of  his  fellow-creatures  in  his 
hand — he  cringes  to  his  wealthy  client,  and 
often  works  his  way  to  distinction  by  conceal- 
ing  his  real  sentiments,  and  pretending  to  be 
other  than  he  is.  The  doctor,  too,  with  his 
untiring  patience,  and  his  imperturbable  se- 
renity, approaching  with  apparent  kindness 
and  respect,  where  every  feeling  of  his  soul 
is  repelled — who  would  speak  of  him  as  an 
independent  man,  more  especially  in  the  out- 
set of  his  career  ?  Nor  is  this  less  the  case 
with  other  professions,  all  which,  however, 
are  esteemed  more  honorable,  and  conse- 
quently more  eligible,  than  any  kind  of  trade. 

But  still— 

"  A  man's  a  man  for  a'  that ;" 
and  let  his  occupation  be  what  it  may,  it  is 
the  honest  heart,  the  upright  principle,  the 
steady  mind,  and  the  unbiased  judgment, 
which  give  him  dignity  wherever  he  may  be 
placed.  The  man  who  possesses  these  qual- 
ifications, in  addition  to  a  far-stretching  and 
enlightened  intellect,  must  ever  be  a  pillar  to 
the  state  in  which  he  lives,  for  he  will  up- 
hold its  integrity,  and  without  such  men  no 
nation  can  be  truly  great 

As  the  chosen  companion  of  such  a  man, 
is  it  possible,  then,  that  an  English  woman 
born  to  the  same  rank  in  society,  should 
blush  to  acknowledge  herself  a  tradesman's 
wife  ]  Nor  is  this  all.  It  is  not  the  bare  ac- 
knowledgment that  she  is  so,  which  can  in 
any  way  be  made  to  answer  the  demands  of 
duty,  but  a  perfect  willingness  to  adapt  her- 
self in  every  respect  to  her  situation,  so  as  to 
answer  its  various  requirements  to  the  satis- 
faction of  all  around  her.  And  here  the  sis- 
ters who  have  been  separated  so  widely  from 
their  brothers  in  the  formation  of  their  social 
and  domestic  habits,  are  found  so  often  and 
so  lamentably  at  fault ;  not  always  because 
they  are  unwilling  to  do  what  duty  may  re- 
quire, but  because  from  having  early  imbibed 
false  notions  of  what  is  really  honorable,  and 
really  degrading,  they  do  their  duty,  if  at  all, 


m  a  troubled,  fretful,  and  discontented  spirit, 
as  much  at  variance  with  what  a  husband 
would  naturally  desire  in  the  companion  of 
his  home,  as  with  what  ought  to  be  exhibited 
as  the  graces  of  the  Christian  character. 

Yet  what  can  be  expected  of  such  wives, 
for  they  have  their  sickly  sensibilities  arising 
out  of  the  false  position  they  have  held,  and 
for  which  they  have  been  training ;  they  have 
the  romance  engendered  by  indolence  and 
light  reading;  they  have  the  love  of  self, 
which  personal  indulgence  has  strengthened 
into  a  habit ;  they  have  their  delicate  consti- 
tutions, and  their  thousand  ailments — they 
have  all  these  to  contend  with,  and  all  opera- 
ting powerfully  against  the  cheerful  perform- 
ance of  the  new  duties  in  which  they  are  in- 
volved. 

Who  can  have  witnessed  the  situation  of 
such  women  in  their  married  state,  without 
longing  to  awaken  the  whole  sisterhood  to  a 
different  estimate  of  duty,  and  of  happiness  1 
Who  can  have  observed  their  feeble  striving 
after  nobler  effort,  when  too  late  to  attain  the 
power  of  making  it  to  any  useful  purpose — 
the  spirit  broken,  the  health  impaired,  the 
beauty  and  vivacity  of  youth  all  gone ;  the 
few  accomplishments  upon  which  their  time 
was  wasted,  forgotten,  or  remembered  only 
as  a  dream ;  the  wish  without  the  hope  to  do 
better  for  the  future,  than  has  been  done  for 
the  past,  the  failing  of  pecuniary  means,  re- 
sources gradually  diminishing  in  proportion 
to  the  increase  of  demand — sickness,  ser- 
vants, children,  and  their  education,  all  re- 
quiring more  and  more — who  that  has  ever 
looked  upon  all  this,  and  there  are  not  a  few 
among  the  boasted  homes  of  England  where 
the  reality  of  this  picture  might  be  found, 
would  not  yearn  with  aching  heart  over  so 
lamentable  a  waste  of  good  feeling  and  in- 
tention, arising  solely  out  of  the  early,  but 
wrong  basis  of  the  female  mind  with  regard 
to  common  things  1 

But  let  us  not  despair.  Where  ignorance 
and  not  perverseness  constitutes  the  founda- 
tion of  any  prevailing  evil,  the  whole  may 
easily  be  remedied.  Let  us  look  then  again 
at  the  constitution  of  English  society,  at  the 


70 


THE  WIVES  OF  ENGLAND. 


vast  proportion  of  good  which  is  effected  by 
the  middle  classes,  at  the  mass  of  intellect  it 
comprehends,  at  the  genius  by  which  it  is 
adorned,  at  the  influence  it  commands,  at  the 
dignity  with  which  it  is  invested  by  the  state, 
and  last,  but  not  least,  at  its  independence ; 
for  if,  on  the  one  hand,  it  claims  exemption 
from  the  necessary  hardships  and  restrictions 
of  the  poor,  on  the  other,  it  is  equally  privi- 
leged in  its  exemption  from  the  arbitrary  re- 
quirements of  exalted  rank. 

It  is  unquestionably  one  of  the  great  ad- 
vantages of  being  born  to  this  station,  that 
we  are  comparatively  free  to  think  and  act 
for  ourselves ;  that  our  heritage  is  one  of 
liberty,  with  the  rational  enjoyment  of  which 
no  one  has  a  right  to  interfere.  We  have 
our  intellectual  privileges,  too,  and  leisure 
for  the  cultivation  of  the  mind ;  our  social 
meetings,  where  we  dare  to  speak  the  hon- 
est feelings  of  the  heart,  no  man  being  able 
to  make  us  afraid ;  our  hospitality  unshack- 
led by  the  cold  formalities  of  rank ;  our  homes 
supplied  with  every  comfort,  and  it  may  be, 
adorned  with  elegance ;  our  fireside  pleas- 
ures uninterrupted ;  our  ingatherings  of 
domestic  joy  sacred  to  those  who  dwell  be- 
neath the  same  protecting  roof;  and  no  in- 
terference with  our  sentiments,  or  our  reli- 
gion, but  each  one  left  to  follow  out  the  pur- 
pose of  a  merciful  Creator,  by  choosing  his 
Bible  and  his  conscience  as  his  only  guide. 

And  what  could  any  reasonable  woman 
wish  for  more  ]  Or  having  found  herself  a 
member  of  a  community  thus  constituted, 
why  should  she  reject  its  noble  privileges,  for 
the  sake  of  any  feeble  hold  she  may  obtain 
of  such  as  belong  more  probably  to  another, 
and  a  higher  sphere  ? 

I  have  already  stated,  in  an  earlier  por- 
tion of  this  work,  that  true  dignity  can  only 
be  maintained  by  adaptation  to  our  cir- 
cumstances, whatever  they  may  be  :  thus 
there  can  be  no  dignity  in  assuming  what 
does  not  belong  to  our  actual  position  in  so- 
ciety ;  though  many  temptations  to  fall  into 
this  error  are  placed  in  the  way  of  women  in 
general.  When,  for  instance,  the  wife  of  a 
respectable  tradesman  is  associated  with  per- 


sons of  superior  rank  in  the  duties  of  private 
or  public  charity,  she  is  frequently  treated 
with  a  degree  of  kindness  and  freedom, 
which,  if  not  on  her  guard  against  the  fasci- 
nating manners  of  that  class  of  society,  might 
easily  beguile  her  into  the  belief  that  no  real 
difference  wf  rank  was  felt  to  exist  But  just 
in  proportion  as  she  would  herself  desire  to  be 
affable  and  kind  to  those  beneath  her,  without 
such  kindness  being  presumed  upon  as  an 
evidence  of  equality  ;  so  it  often  happens  that 
ladies  of  rank  do  really  enjoy  a  certain  degree 
of  friendly  and  social  intercourse  with  women 
of  good  sense  occupying  a  lower  station, 
when  at  the  same  time  they  would  shrink 
away  repelled  by  the  least  symptom  of  the 
difference  of  rank  being  forgotten  by  the  in- 
ferior party. 

It  is  the  instinct  of  natural  delicacy  then 
which  leads»us  rather  to  withdraw  our  famil- 
iarity, than  to  have  it  withdrawn  from ;  and 
if  thus  sensible  of  what  is  her  proper  sphere, 
and  scrupulous  to  observe  its  limits,  a  right- 
minded  woman  need  never  be  made  to  feel 
that  she  is  not  respected ;  although  the  mo- 
ment she  steps  beyond  the  boundary  of  that 
sphere,  the  true  dignity  of  her  character  will 
be  gone. 

Nor  is  this  the  case  with  her  position  in 
society  alone.  All  misapprehensions  about 
herself,  such  as  supposing  she  is  beautiful 
when  she  is  not,  or  highly  gifted  when  no 
evidence  of  talent  appears,  or  important 
when  she  has  no  influence — all  these  mis- 
takes are  calculated  to  deprive  a  woman  of 
that  dignity  which  is  the  inalienable  posses- 
sion of  all  who  fill  with  perfect  propriety  their 
appointed  place. 

It  is  scarcely  necessary  in  the  present  state 
of  society  to  point  out,  on  the  other  hand,  the 
loss  of  character  and  influence  occasioned  by 
living  below  our  station ;  for  if  in  some  indi- 
vidual minds  there  is  an  inherent  tendency 
to  sink  and  grovel  in  their  own  sphere,  or  to 
be  servile  and  cringing  to  those  above  them ; 
such  a  propensity  forms  so  rare  an  exception 
to  the  general  character  of  the  times  in  which 
we  live,  as  scarcely  to  need  any  further  com- 
ment, more  especially  as  such  a  disposition 


POSITION  IN  SOCIETY. 


71 


is  exposed  by  its  own  folly  to  that  contempt 
which  constitutes  its  proper  punishment. 

It  is,  however,  deeply  to  be  regretted,  that 
often  where  this  tendency  is  not  inherent, 
nor  consequently  a  part  of  individual  charac- 
ter, it  has  in  too  many  instances  been  induced 
by  the  severe  and  constant  pressure  of  pecu- 
niary difficulties,  rendering  it  an  act  of  ne- 
cessity, rather  than  of  choice,  that  the  favor 
of  the  distinguished  or  the  wealthy  should  be 
sought,  and  their  patronage  obtained,  as  the 
only  means  of  ensuring  success,  and  some- 
times as  the  only  hope  of  preserving  a  help- 
less family  from  want  or  ruin. 

Pitiable  as  this  situation  may  be,  and  fre- 
quent as  there  is  every  reason  to  fear  it  is, 
much  may  be  done  in  cases  of  this  kind  to 
keep  up  the  moral  dignity  of  a  husband  and 
a  family,  by  the  influence  of  a  high-principled 
wife,  who  will  make  it  the  study  of  her  life 
to  prove  that  it  is  not  in  the  power  of  cir- 
cumstances to  degrade  an  upright  and  inde- 
pendent mind. 

If,  then,  it  is  a  duty  of  paramount  import- 
ance for  a  wife  to  ascertain  what  is  her  ex- 
act position  in  society,  and  to  endeavor  to 
adapt  herself  to  it  wherever  it  may  be ;  her 
next  duty  is  to  consider  well  the  manner  of 
doing  this.  We  can  all  feel,  in  the  case  of 
our  servants  and  dependents,  the  vast  differ- 
ence there  is  between  a  willing  and  an  un- 
willing service.  How  striking  then  must  be 
this  difference,  where  all  the  social  affections, 
and  the  best  feelings  of  the  heart,  are  impli- 
cated, as  they  must  be,  in  the  conduct  of  a 
wife ! 

I  can  think  of  no  more  appropriate  word 
by  which  to  describe  the  manner  in  which 
her  duties  ought  to  be  performed,  than  the 
homely  phraseology  we  use,  when  we  speak 
of  things  being  done  heartily ;  for  it  is  pre- 
cisely in  this  way  that  she  may  most  effect- 
ually prove  to  her  husband  how  entirely  she 
considers  her  destiny,  with  all  its  hopes,  and 
all  its  anxieties,  to  be  identified  with  his. 
As  a  mere  matter  of  policy,  too,  nothing  can 
be  more  likely  to  ensure  the  happiest  results, 
since  whatever  we  do  heartily,  produces  in 
one  sense  its  own  reward,  by  stimulating  in- 


to healthy  activity  the  various  powers  of  the 
mind  and  body,  and  thus  exciting  a  degree 
of  energy  and  cheerfulness,  alike  calculated 
to  enhance  the  pleasure  of  success,  or  to 
support  under  the  trial  of  disappointment 
While  on  the  other  hand,  a  shrinking,  re- 
luctant, halfish  way  of  falling  in  with  the  re- 
quirements of  duty,  by  perpetuating  the  sen- 
sation of  self-sacrifice,  and  dragging  out  each 
individual  effort  into  a  lingering  and  painful 
struggle,  is  not  more  likely  to  produce  the 
most  unfavorable  impression  upon  the  minds 
of  those  with  whom  we  are  associated,  than 
to  weary  out  our  own  inclination  to  do  right, 
at  the  same  time  that  it  effectually  destroys 
our  happiness  and  our  peace  of  mind. 

I  have  thus  far,  in  relation  to  position  in 
society,  spoken  only  of  cases  in  which  the 
wife  may  be  liable  to  feel  that  her  situation 
is  a  humiliating  one,  and  I  have  been  com- 
pelled to  do  this  at  some  length — from  the 
fact  already  noticed,  of  the  sisters  in  familie's 
connected  with  business,  being  generally  so' 
far  in  advance  of  their  brothers,  not  only  as 
regards  their  notions  of  what  is  suitable  or 
becoming, to  themselves,  but  also  the  habits 
they  have  cultivated  of  refinement  and  per- 
sonal indulgence,  as  to  render  it  scarcely 
possible  for  them  to  marry  in  the  same  sphere 
of  life,  without  having  much  to  endure  before 
they  can  enter  with  full  purpose  of  heart  into 
all  the  requirements  of  their  new  situation. 

But  if  cases  of  this  kind  constitute  the  ma- 
jority of  those  which  fall  under  our  notice, 
we  must  not  forget  that  in  English  society, 
it  is  the  privilege  of  many  persons  in  the 
middle  ranks  to  be  placed  in  circumstances 
of  affluence  and  ease,  where  the  luxuries  of 
life,  and  even  its  elegances,  may  properly  be 
enjoyed.  And  if  the  first  aspect  of  such  a 
lot  should  present  the  idea  of  greater  per- 
sonal indulgence  being  its  lawful  accompani- 
ment; on  the  other  hand,  the  serious  and 
reflecting  mind  must  be  struck  with  the  im- 
portant fact,  that  in  proportion  to  more  ex- 
tensive means  of  enjoyment,  must  be  a  widrr 
influence,  and  a  greater  amount  of  re- 
sponsibility. 

To  use  this  influence  aright,  and  to  render 


72 


THE  WIVES  OF  ENGLAND. 


to  her  conscience  a  strict  account  of  these 
responsibilities,  will  be  no  light  undertaking 
to  the  English,  wife  ;  and  as  we  live,  happily 
for  us,  in  a  country  where  channels  are  per- 
petually opened  for  our  benevolence,  and 
opportunities  perpetually  offered  for  our  ef- 
forts to  do  good,  we  cannot,  if  we  would, 
rest  satisfied  with  the  plea,  that  our  disposi- 
tion towards  usefulness  meets  with  no  field 
for  its  development 

It  so  happens,  however,  that  the  same  po- 
sition in  society  which  presents  such  facilities 
for  the  exercise  of  better  feeling,  presents 
also  innumerable  temptations  to  the  gratifi- 
cation of  female  vanity,  indolence,  and  self- 
indulgence,  with  all  the  evils  which  common- 
ly follow  in  their  train.  The  very  title  of  this 
chapter — "Position  in  Society," — where  it 
conveys  an  idea  of  wealth  and  influence, 
never  fails  to  conjure  up  a  host  of  enemies  to 
simple  Christian  duty,  some  of  which  are  so 
deceptive  and  insidious,  as  effectually  to  es- 
cape detection,  until  their  magnitude,  as 
plants  of  evil  growth,  becomes  a  cause  of 
just  alarm. 

The  great  facility  with  which  the  elegan- 
ces and  luxuries  of  life  are  now  obtained, 
and  the  general  competition  which  prevails 
throughout  society  with  regard  to  dress,  furni- 
ture, and  style  of  living,  present  to  a  vain  and 
unenlightened  woman,  an  almost  irresistible 
temptation  to"  plunge  into  that  vortex  of  extrav- 
agance, display,  and  worldly-mindedness,  in 
which,  I  believe,  a  greater  amount  of  good  in- 
tention has  been  lost,  than  by  the  direct  as- 
sault of  enemies  apparently  more  powerful. 

Again,  the  indolence  almost  necessarily  in- 
duced by  the  enjoyment  to  a  great  extent  of 
the  luxuries  of  life— how  often  is  this  foe  to 
health  and  cheerfulness  dressed  up  in  the 
cloak  of  charity,  and  made  to  assume  the 
character  of  kindness  to  the  poor,  in  offering 
them  employment  Not  that  I  would  be 
guilty  of  endeavoring  to  divert  from  so  ne- 
cessitous a  channel  the  proper  exercise  of 
real  charity ;  but  at  the  same  time  that  we 
advocate  the  cause  of  the  poor,  let  us  call 
things  by  their  right  names ;  and  if  we  em- 
ploy more  servants  than  are  necessary,  or 


send  out  our  work  to  be  done  by  those  who 
need  the  utmost  amount  of  what  we  give 
them  for  doing  it,  let  us  not  take  advantage 
of  this  disposition  of  our  affairs,  to  spend  the 
time  which  remains  upon  our  hands  in  Mdle- 
ness ;  but  let  us  rather  employ,  in  a  higher 
sphere  of  usefulness,  those  faculties  of  mind, 
and  those  advantages  of  education,  the  free 
exercise  of  which  constitutes  one  of  the 
greatest  privileges  of  an  exalted  station. 

The  same  temptations  which  spread  the 
snare  of  indolence  around  the  feet  of  the  un- 
wary, are  equally  potent  in  their  power  to 
beguile  into  habits  of  self-indulgence.  And 
here  the  fancied  or  real  delicacy  of  constitu- 
tion which  seems  in  the  present  day  to  be 
the  birthright  of  Englishwomen,  with  all  that 
spectral  host  of  nervous  maladies,  which  so 
often  paralyze  their  energies,  and  render  nu- 
gatory their  efforts  to  do  good — here,  in  this 
most  privileged  of  all  positions  of  human  life, 
most  frequently  assail  the  female  frame,  so  as 
often  to  reduce  their  pitiable  victim  to  a  mere 
nonentity  as  regards  one  great  end  of  her  ex- 
istence— usefulness  to  her  fellow-creatures. 

Far  be  it  from  me  to  speak  with  unkind- 
ness  or  want  of  sympathy  of  those  maladies 
of  mind  and  body,  which,  under  the  general 
head  of  nervous  disorders,  I  believe  to  con- 
stitute some  of  the  greatest  miseries  which 
"  flesh  is  heir  to."  But  having  never  found 
them  to  exist  to  any  serious  extent  where 
constant  occupation  of  head  and  hand,  and 
heathful  bodily  exercise,  were  kept  up  with 
vigorous  and  unremitting  effort ;  I  feel  the 
more  anxious  that  English  wives  should  not 
create  for  themselves,  out  of  their  habits  of 
personal  indulgence,  so  formidable  an  enemy 
to  their  own  enjoyment,  and  to  the  beneficial 
influence  which,  as  Christian  women,  they 
are  capable  of  exercising  to  an  almost  incal- 
culable extent 

I  feel  anxious  also,  that  some  pictures,  too 
frequently  witnessed  by  us  all,  should  never 
be  realized  in  their  experience — pictures  in 
which  a  sickly,  helpless,  desponding  wife, 
forms  the  centre  of  a  group  of  neglected 
children,  whose  boisterous  mirth  she  is  little 
able  to  endure,  and  whose  numerous  wants, 


POSITION  IN  SOCIETY. 


73 


all  unrestrained,  remind  her  every  moment, 
with  fresh  pain,  of  her  inability  to  gratify 
them. 

That  a  woman  thus  situated,  is,  under  ex- 
isting circumstances,  more  to  be  pitied  than 
blamed,  we  should  be  wanting  in  common 
feeling  to  deny  ;  but  in  comparing  her  situa- 
tion with  that  of  a  healthy,  active,  cheerful- 
epirited  wife,  prompt  to  answer  every  claim, 
and  happy  in  the  discharge  of  every  duty ; 
and  when  we  see  how  such  a  woman,  merely 
by  the  exercise  of  moral  power,  and  often 
without  the  advantages  of  any  extraordinary 
intellectual  gifts,  can  become  the  living  prin- 
ciple of  activity,  order,  and  cheerfulness  in 
her  own  family,  the  adviser  whom  all  consult, 
the  comforter  to  whom  all  repair,  and  the 
support  upon  whom  all  depend,  happy  in 
herself,  and  diffusing  happiness  around  her 
—oh  how  we  long  that  those  dispositions, 
and  those  habits,  both  of  mind  and  body, 
should  be  cultivated  in  early  youth,  which 
would  be  most  likely  to  ensure  such  blessed 
results  as  the  experience  of  riper  years ! 

Much  of  this  habitual  cheerfulness,  and 
this  willing  submission  to  the  requirements 
of  duty,  is  to  be  attained  by  the  proper  regu- 
lation of  our  aims  with  regard  to  common 
things ;  but  especially  by  having  chosen  a 
right  standard  of  excellence  for  every  thing  we 
do.  For  want  of  aiming  at  the  right  thing, 
the  whole  course  of  human  life,  which 
might  be  so  richly  diversified  with  enjoyment 
of  various  kinds,  is  often  converted  into  a 
long,  fruitless,  and  wearisome  struggle,  first 
to  attain  a  happiness  which  is  never  found, 
and  then  to  escape  a  misery  which  too  surely 
pursues  its  mistaken  victim. 

The  married  woman  cannot,  then,  too  fre- 
quently ask  herself,  "  What  is  it  which  con- 
stitutes the  object  of  my  greatest  earthly  de- 
sire 1  and  at  what  standard  do  I  really  aim  V 
Nor  let  us  deceive  ourselves  either  in  asking 
or  in  answering  these  questions  ;  for  if  it  be 
essential  to  integrity  that  we  should  be  sin- 
cere with  others,  it  is  no  less  so  that  we 
should  be  sincere  with  ourselves. 

If,  then,  we  are  weak  enough  to  aim  at  be- 
ing the  centre  of  a  brilliant  circle,  let  us  not 


pretend  that  we  court  notoriety  for  the  pur- 
pose of  extending  our  influence,  and  through 
that,  our  means  of  doing  good.*  If  we  aim  at 
surpassing  our  neighbors  in  the  richness  of 
of  our  furniture,  the  splendor  of  our  enter- 
tainments, and  the  costliness  of  our  dress, 
let  us  not  deceive  ourselves  into  the  belief, 
that  it  is  for  the  sake  of  encouraging  the 
manufactures  and  the  people  of  our  own 
country.  If  we  aim  at  taking  the  lead  in  af- 
fairs of  moment,  and  occupying  the  first 
place  among  those  with  whom  we  associate, 
let  us  not  do  this  under  the  plea  of  being 
forced  into  a  conspicuous  situation  against 
our  will,  in  compliance  with  the  wish  of 
others,  and  under  the  fear  of  giving  them  of- 
fence. Let  us,  I  repeat,  be  honest  with  our- 
selves, for  this  is  our  only  chance  of  ever 
arriving  at  any  satisfactory  conclusion,  or  at- 
taining any  desirable  end. 

And  if  we  would  ascertain  with  certainty 
what  is  the  actual  standard  of  excellence 
which  in  idea  we  set  up  for  ourselves,  for  all 
persons,  whether  they  know  it  or  not,  have 
such  a  standard,  we  have  only  to  ascertain 
to  what  particular  purpose  our  thoughts  and 
actions  most  uniformly  tend.  If  the  most 
brilliant  and  striking  characters  are  those 
which  we  consider  most  enviable,  we  may 
easily  detect  in  ourselves  a  prevailing  en- 
deavor, in  what  we  say  or  do,  to  produce  an 
impression,  and  consequently  to  render  our- 
selves conspicuous,  than  which,  nothing  can 
be  more  out  of  keeping  with  the  right  position 
of  a  married  woman,  nor  more  likely  to  ren- 
der her,  at  the  summit  of  her  wishes,  a  mark 
for  envy,  and  all  uncharitableness. 

But  a  far  more  frequent,  and  more  exten- 
sively prevailing  standard  of  excellence,  is 
that  which  consists  in  giving  the  best  dinners, 
exhibiting  the  most  costly  furniture,  being 
dressed  in  the  newest  fashion,  and  making 
every  entertainment  go  off  in  the  most  suc- 
cessful manner.  How  many  heads  and 
hearts  are  made  to  ache  by  this  ambition,  it 
must  be  left  for  the  private  history  of  every 
family  to  record.  What  sleepless  nights, 
what  days  of  toil,  what  torturing  anxieties, 
what  envyings,  what  disputes,  what  back- 


71 


THE  WIVES  OF  ENGLAND. 


failings,  and  what  bitter  disappointments  arise 
out  of  this  very  cause,  must  be  left  for  the 
same  record  to  disclose.  And  if  in  the  oppo- 
site scale  we  tvould  weigh  the  happiness  en- 
joyed, the  good  imparted,  or  the  evil  over- 
come by  the  operation  of  the  same  agency, 
1  we  behold  a  blank;  for  let  the  measure  of 
success  be  what  it  may,  there  is  no  extreme 
of  excellence  to  which  this  ambition  leads, 
but  it  may  be  exceeded  by  a  neighbor,  or 
perhaps  a  friend ;  and  where  wealth  can 
purchase  all  that  we  aspire  to,  we  must 
ever  be  liable  to  the  mortifying  chance  of  be- 
ing compelled  to  yield  precedence  to  the  ig- 
norant and  the  vulgar-minded. 

Nothing,  in  fact,  can  be  more  vulgar,  or 
more  in  accordance  with  the  lowest  grade 
of  feeling,  than  an  ambition  of  this  kind. 
Not  only  is  it  low  in  its  own  nature,  but  low 
in  all  the  calculations  it  requires,  in  all  the 
faculties  it  calls  into  exercise,  and  in  all  the 
associations  it  draws  along  with  it  Yet, 
who  shall  dethrone  this  monster  from  its 
place  in  the  hearts  of  English  wives,  where 
it  gives  the  law  to  private  conduct,  levies  a 
tax  upon  industry,  monopolizes  pecuniary 
profit,  makes  itself  the  arbiter  in  cases  of 
difficulty  or  doubt,  rules  the  destiny  of  fami- 
lies, and  finally  gives  the  tone  \o  public  feel- 
ing, and  consequently  the  bias  to  national 
character  1 

I  ask  again,  who  shall  dethrone  this  mon- 
ster? Perhaps  there  would  be  little  weight 
attached  to  my  assertion,  if  I  were  to  say 
that  it  is  within  the  sphere  of  woman's  influ- 
ence to  do  this  ;  that  it  rests  with  the  wives 
of  England  to  choose  whether  they  will  go 
on  to  estimate  their  position  in  society  by  the 
cost  of  their  furniture,  and  the  brilliance  of 
their  entertainments ;  or,  by  the  moral  and 
intellectual  character  of  their  social  inter- 
course, by  the  high  principle  which  regulates 
their  actions,  and  by  the  domestic  happiness 
to  be  found  within  their  homes. 

So  long  as  we  esteem  those  we  meet  with 
in  society  according  to  the  fashion  of  their 
dress,  the  richness  of  their  ornaments,  or  the 
style  in  which  they  live,  it  is  a  mockery  of 
w'ords  to  say  that  our  standard  of  excellence 


does  not  consist  in  that  which  money  can 
purchase,  or  a  vain  and  vulgar  ambition  at- 
tain. And  so  long  as  we  feel  cast  down,  dis- 
appointed, and  distressed  at  being  outshone 
in  these  outward  embellishments,  it  is  a  cer- 
tain proof  that  we  are  not  attaching  supreme 
importance  to  such  as  adorn  the  mind. 

I  am  fully  aware,  in  writing  on  this  subject, 
that  I  am  but  lifting  a  feeble  voice  against  the 
giant-force  of  popular  feeling ;  that  the  state 
of  our  country,  presenting  an  almost  univer- 
sal tendency  towards  an  excess  of  civiliza- 
tion, added  to  the  improvement  in  our  manu- 
factures, and  the  facility  with  which  every 
kind  of  luxury  is  now  obtained,  are  causes 
perpetually  operating  upon  the  great  mass 
of  the  people,  so  as  to  urge  them  on  to  a  state 
of  eager  competition  in  the  display  of  all 
which  money  can  procure ;  and  that  this 
competition  is  highly  applauded  by  many,  as 
beneficial  to  the  nation  at  large,  and  espe- 
cially so  when  that  nation  is  considered  mere- 
ly as  a  mass  of  instrumentality,  operating 
upon  what  is  purely  material. 

But  I  am  aware  also,  that  this  very  cause, 
operating  so  widely  and  so  powerfully  as  it 
does,  ought  to  furnish  the  impetus  of  a  new 
movement  in  society,  by  which  the  intellec- 
tual and  the  spiritual  shall,  by  a  fresh  effort, 
be  roused  to  its  proper  elevation  above  the 
material ;  and  this  necessary  and  truly  noble 
effort,  I  must  again  repeat,  it  is  in  the  power 
of  the  wives  of  England  to  make. 

Nor  would  this  great  movement  in  reality 
be  so  difficult  to  effect,  as  we  might  be  led  to 
suppose  from  looking  only  at  the  surface  of 
society,  and  observing  the  multiplicity  of  in- 
stances in  which  a  false  standard  of  excel- 
lence is  established.  We  are  sometimes  too 
much  influenced  in  our  opinions,  as  well  as 
too  much  discouraged  in  our  endeavors  to 
do  good,  by  a  superficial  observation  of  the 
general  state  of  things  in  social  life ;  for  there 
is  often  an  under-current  of  feeling  towards 
what  is  just  and  good,  at  work  in  the  minds 
of  those  who,  from  being  deficient  in  the 
moral  power  to  act  upon  their  own  convic- 
tions, fall  in  with  the  superficial  tide,  and  go 
along  with  the  stream,  against  their  better 


POSITION  IN  SOCIETY. 


judgment,  if  not  against  their  real  inclina- 
tions. 

Thus,  in  a  more  close  and  intimate  ac- 
quaintance with  the  world,  we  find,  to  our 
frequent  satisfaction,  that  a  combination  of 
intellectual  superiority  and  moral  worth,  is 
not  in  reality  so  lightly  esteemed  as  at  first 
we  had  supposed;  that  the  weak  and  the 
vain,  who  spend  their  lives  in  striving  after 
that  which  truly  profiteth  not,  are  dissatisfied 
and  weary  with  their  own  fruitless  efforts, 
and  that  others  a  little  more  gifted  with  un- 
derstanding, and  enlightened  by  juster  views, 
though  engaged  in  the  same  unprofitable 
struggle,  would  be  more  than  glad  of  any 
thing  that  would  assist  them  to  escape  from 
their  grovelling  anxieties,  and  low  entangle- 
ments, so  as  in  an  open  and  decided  manner 
to  declare  themselves  on  the  side  of  what  is 
intrinsically  good,  and  consequently  worthy 
of  their  utmost  endeavors  to  attain. 

Thus  we  find  too,  in  spite  of  popular  pre- 
judice against  a  simple  dress,  or  a  homely 
way  of  living,  that  respectability,  and  genuine 
worth  of  character,  are  able  not  only  to  give 
dignity  to  any  position  in  society,  but  also  to 
command  universal  respect  from  others ;  and 
that,  while  few  are  bold  enough  to  imitate, 
there  is  no  small  proportion  of  the  commu- 
nity who  secretly  wish  they  were  like  those 
noble-minded  individuals,  who  dare  to  aim  at 
a  true  standard  of  excellence  in  the  forma- 
tion of  their  own  habits,  and  the  general  con- 
duct of  their  families. 

Shall  we  then  go  on  in  the  same  way, 
forcing  ourselves  to  be  contemptible,  and  de- 
spising the  bondage  to  which  we  submit  1  It 
is  true,  the  effort  necessary  to  be  made,  which 
the  state  of  the  times,  and  the  satisfaction  of 
our  consciences,  alike  require  of  us,  is  hard 
for  any  single  individual.  But  let  us  stand 
by  each  other  in  this  great  and  noble  cause. 
Let  the  strong  endeavor  to  encourage  and 
sustain  the  weak ;  and  let  us  prove,  for  the 
benefit  of  succeeding  generations,  how  much 
may  be  done  for  the  happiness  of  our  homes, 
and  the  good  of  our  country,  by  being  satis- 


fied with  the  position  in  which  Providence 
has  placed  us,  and  by  endeavoring  to  adorn 
that  position  with  the  lasting  embellishments 
which  belong  to  an  enlightened  understand- 
ing, a  well-regulated  mind,  and  a  benevolent, 
sincere,  and  faithful  heart. 

Our  standard  of  excellence  will  then  be  no 
longer  found  in  the  most  splendid  jewelry,  or 
the  costliest  plate  ;  for  in  all  these  the  vulgar 
and  the  ignorant  may  easily  attain  pre-emi- 
nence ;  but  in  the  warmest  welcome,  the 
kindest  service,  the  best-regulated  household, 
the  strictest  judgment  of  ourselves,  the  most 
beneficial  influence,  the  highest  hopes  for  fu- 
turity, and  the  largest  amount  of  domestic 
and  social  happiness  which  it  is  ever  permit- 
ted to  the  families  of  earth  to  enjoy. 

It  is  needless  to  say  that  all  these  embel- 
lishments to  life  may  be  ensured  without  re- 
gard to  position  in  society ;  and  if  such  were 
made  the  universal  standard  of  excellence 
among  the  wives  of  England,  much,  if  not 
all,  the  suffering  which  prevails  wherever 
happiness  is  made  to  consist  in  what  money 
can  procure,  would  cease  to  be  found  within 
our  homes ;  while,  rising  thus  above  our  cir- 
cumstances, we  should  no  longer  be  subject 
in  our  hopes  and  fears  to  the  fluctuations  of 
commerce,  or  the  uncertainty  of  a  position 
depending  solely  upon  its  pecuniary  advan- 
tages. We  should  then  feel  to  be  resting  on 
a  sure  foundation,  just  in  proportion  as  our 
standard  was  faithfully  upheld.  I  do  not  say 
that  we  should  be  free  from  troubles,  for  such 
are  the  lot  of  all ;  but  that  single  wide-spread- 
ing source  of  anxiety,  which  from  its  vastness 
appears  in  the  present  day  to  swallow  up  all 
others — the  anxiety  to  attain  a  position  higher 
than  our  own  proper  sphere,  would  then  van- 
ish from  our  land ;  and  with  it  such  a  host 
of  grievances,  that  in  contemplating  so  bless- 
ed a  change  in  our  domestic  and  social  con- 
dition, I  cannot  but  again  entreat  the  wives 
of  England  to  think  of  these  things,  and  finally 
to  unite  together  in  one  firm  determination 
to  establish  a  new  and  a  better  standard  by 
which  to  estimate  their  position  in  society. 


THE  WIVES  OF  ENGLAND. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

DOMEST/C   MANAGEMENT. 

CLOSELY  connected  with  the  subject  already 
dwelt  upon,  is  that  of  domestic  management ; 
since  whatever  standard  we  choose,  and  what- 
ever principles  we  adopt  as  our  rule  of  action, 
will  develop  themselves  in  the  system  we 
pursue  with  regard  to  the  conduct  of  our  do- 
mestic affairs. 

If,  therefore,  to  appear  well  with  the  world 
according  to  the  popular  standard,  be  our  su- 
preme desire,  the  tendency  of  our  domestic 
regulations  will  be  to  make,  before  our  friends 
and  associates,  the  greatest  possible  display 
of  what  is  costly  and  elegant  in  our  furniture 
and  style  of  living ;  while,  on  the  other  hand, 
if  our  aim  be  to  ensure  the  greatest  amount 
of  happiness  to  ourselves,  and  to  those  around 
us,  we  shall  have  a  widely  different  task  to 
pursue ;  and  it  is  to  the  latter  purpose  only 
that  I  propose  devoting  this  chapter,  as  the 
former  could  be  better  effected  by  consult- 
ing the  upholsterer,  the  silversmith,  or  the 
jeweller. 

Leaving  to  individuals  tfius  qualified  the 
important  office  of  deciding  what  is  accord- 
ing to  the  latest  fashion,  and  which  article 
is  most  approved  in  circles  of  distinction, 
we  must  turn  our  attention  to  a  study  of  a 
totally  different  description  ;  and  if  at  first  it 
should  appear  more  difficult  and  complica- 
ted, it  will  have  the  merit  of  becoming  every 
day  more  simple,  and  more  clear ;  or  if  it 
should  seem  to  involve  by  necessity  a  cer- 
tain degree  of  suffering  and  self-denial,  it 
will  have  the  still  higher  merit  of  resulting 
in  ultimate  happiness ;  while  the  system  of 
domestic  management  above  alluded  to, 
though  in  the  outset  full  of  promises  of 
indulgence  and  pleasure,  is  certain  to  in- 
volve in  greater  and  deeper  perplexity  the 
longer  it  is  pursued,  and  finally  to  issue  in 
vexation  and  disappointment 

It  is,  then,  the  way  to  make  others  hap- 
py, and  consequently  to  be  happy  ourselves, 
which  I  am  about  to  recommend ;  and  if 
in  doing  this  I  am  compelled  to  enter  into  the 
minute  and  homely  details  of  woman's  daily 

L  


life,  I  must  claim  the  forbearance  of  the  read- 
er on  the  plea  that  no  act  can  be  so  trifling 
as  not  to  be  ennobled  by  a  great  or  a  gen- 
erous motive. 

Before  proceeding  further  with  this  subject, 
I  must  address  one  word  to  the  ladies  of  the 
present  day — to  the  refined  and  fastidious, 
who  dwell  in  an  atmosphere  of  taste,  and 
make  that  their  standard  of  excellence — lest 
from  the  freedom  of  my  remarks  upon  dress 
and  furniture,  I  should  fall  under  their  con- 
demnation for  undervaluing  what  is  elegant, 
and  wishing  to  discard  what  is  ornamental ; 
or,  in  other  words,  of  being  indifferent  to  the 
influence  of  beauty  in  general,  as  it  may  just- 
ly be  said  to  refine  our  feelings,  and  enhance 
our  enjoyments. 

Without  presuming  to  refer  such  readers 
to  a  work  of  my  own,*  in  which  they  would 
find  that  my  admiration  of  the  beautiful, 
wherever  it  may  be  found,  is  scarcely  inferior 
to  theirs ;  I  will  simply  express  my  convic- 
tion, that  the  exercise  of  good  taste,  which 
must  ever  be  in  accordance  with  the  princi- 
ples of  beauty,  fitness,  and  harmony,  is  by  no 
means  confined  to  the  'display  of  what  is 
costly,  elaborate,  or  superb;  but  may  at  all 
times  be  sufficiently  developed  in  the  ar- 
rangement of  what  is  simple  and  appropri- 
ate. Indeed,  there  are  nicer  distinctions,  and 
more  exquisite'  sensibilities,  required  in  the 
happy  distribution  of  limited  means,  than  in 
the  choice  and  arrangement  of  the  most  cost- 
ly ornaments  which  money  can  procure.  In 
accordance  with  this  fact,  we  almost  invaria- 
bly find  writers  of  fiction  bestowing  what  is 
gorgeous  and  elaborate  upon  scenes  and 
characters  with  which  the  best  feelings  of 
the  heart  have  little  connection ;  while  the 
favorite  heroine  is  universally  made  con- 
spicuous in  her  simplicity,  and  at  the  same 
time  pre-eminent  in  her  good  taste. 

But  in  addition  to  other  considerations,  it 
is  in  the  present  day  so  easy  as  to  be  com- 
mon, and  consequently  to  some  extent  vul- 
gar, for  all  persons,  both  high  and  low,  to 
adorn  themselves  and  their  houses  to  the 

*  The  Poetry  of  Life. 


DOMESTIC  MANAGEMENT. 


77 


utmost  extent  of  their  pecuniary  means ; 
and  they  are  also  enabled  to  do  this  with 
a  certain  appearance  of  taste,  because  to 
that  class  of  persons  who  supply  the  requi- 
site articles  of  dress  and  furniture,  it  has 
become  their  study  to  ascertain  what  is  most 
approved  in  the  highest  circles,  as  well  as 
what  is  most  ornamental  and  becoming  in 
itself.  And  thus  individuals  who  have  but 
little  taste  themselves,  may  easily  supply 
their  deficiency  by  consulting  what  are  called 
the  first  tradespeople,  or  those  who  sell  to 
the  highest  purchasers. 

How  much  more  exquisite,  then,  must  be 
the  good  taste,  and  delicate  feeling,  of  her 
who  has  no  such  assistance  to  call  in ;  who 
expends  but  little  money  upon  the  entertain- 
ment cf  her  friends,  in  order  that  she  may 
see  them  the  oftener,  and  with  a  less  painful 
tax  upon  her  household ;  but  who  is  still  able 
so  to  conduct  her  household  arrangements, 
that  while  there  is  no  distressing  appearance 
of  excessive  preparation  to  alarm  her  guests, 
an  aspect  of  elegance  and  comfort  is  thrown 
over  the  most  familiar  things,  so  as  to  convey 
the  idea  of  her  family  affairs  being  always 
conducted  in  strict  accordance  with  the  prin- 
ciples of  taste — of  that  taste  which  consults 
the  beauty  of  fitness  and  order,  and  which 
permits  no  extravagance  or  excess  to  inter- 
fere with  the  perfect  harmony  of  its  arrange- 
ments. 

Here,  then,  we  see  the  value  of  having 
made  good  taste  one  of  the  studies  of  early 
life ;  for  when  the  cares  and  anxieties  of  a 
household,  added  to  the  actual  occupations 
of  the  mistress  of  a  family,  press  upon  the 
sometimes  over-burdened  wife,  she  will  find 
little  time,  and  perhaps  less  inclination,  to  en- 
ter into  any  abstruse  calculations  upon  Nthese 
points ;  and  hence  we  too  frequently  see 
among  married  women,  a  deterioration  of 
character  in  this  respect;  for  where  one 
single  woman  is  careless  and  slovenly  in  her 
appearance  or  habits,  there  is  reason  to  fear 
we  might  find  many  in  the  married  state, 
who  might  justly  be  suspected  of  having  lost 
their  regard  for  those  embellishments  which 
depend  upon  the  exercise  of  good  taste. 


In  pursuing  the  subject  of  domestic  man- 
agement, we  are  again  struck  with  the  im- 
portance of  speaking  of  things  by  their  proper 
names ;  for  by  some  strange  misnomer,  those 
women  have  come  to  be  generally  called  good 
managers,  who  put  their  whole  souls  into  the 
^business  of  providing  for  the  mere  bodily  ex- 
igences of  every  day ;  and  thus  the  more  re- 
fined, and  sometimes  the  more  intellectual, 
who  have  no  idea  how  many  good  principles 
may  be  exemplified  in  the  proper  regulation 
of  a  household,  have  imbibed  a  sort  of  dis- 
taste for  good  management,  as  if  it  necessa- 
rily belonged  exclusively  to  the  province  of 
the  ignorant,  or  the  vulgar-minded. 

Managers,  indeed,  those  household  tor- 
ments may  be,  who  live  perpetually  in  an 
element  of  strife  and  discord,  where  no  one 
who  valued  their  own  peace  would  wish  to 
live  with  them ;  but  good  managers  they  cer- 
tainly are  not.  It  is  not,  therefore,  in  abso- 
lute bustle  and  activity,  nor  yet  in  mere  clean- 
liness, order,  and  punctuality,  that  the  per- 
fection of  domestic  management  consists ;  for 
where  the  members  of  a  household  are  made 
to  feel  that  they  pay  too  dearly,  by  the  loss 
of  their  peace  and  comfort,  for  the  cleanli- 
ness, order,  and  punctuality  of  the  mistress, 
all  claim  on  her  part  to  the  merit  of  good 
management  must  be  relinquished. 

It  is  most  difficult,  however,  to  be  suffi- 
ciently solicitous  about  such  points  of  obser- 
vance, and  not  irritated  by  the  neglect  of  them 
in  others.  Hence  it  is  often  said  that  ill- 
tempered  servants  are  the  cleanest  and  most 
orderly ;  because  the  exactness  and  precision 
which  regulate  their  conduct,  produce  in  un- 
enlightened minds,  a  tendency  to  exact  the 
same  from  others ;  and  where  this  is  impos- 
sible to  be  effected,  produce  a  petulance  and 
dissatisfaction  which  obtain  for  them  the  char- 
acter of  being  ill-tempered ;  while  an  opposite 
disposition,  careless  of  order,  cleanliness,  or 
punctuality,  obtains  sometimes  with  great  in- 
justice the  merit  of  being  good-tempered, 
simply  because  any  deviation  from  these 
points  occasions  to  such  a  mind  no  disturb- 
ance whatever. 

It  has  appeared  to  me  ever  since  I  was  ca- 


78 


THE  WIVES  OF  ENGLAND. 


pable  of  extreme  annoyance  or  extreme  en- 
joyment from  such  causes,  that  the  perfec- 
tion of  good  domestic  management  required 
so  many  excellences  both  of  head  and  heart, 
as  to  render  it  a  study  well  worth  the  atten- 
tion of  the  most  benevolent  and  enlightened 
of  human  beings.  For  when  we  consider  the 
simple  fact,  that  it  comprehends — nay,  is 
mainly  dependent  upon  the  art  of  giving  to 
every  thing  which  comes  within  the  sphere 
of  practical  duty  its  proper  weight,  and  con- 
sequently its  due  share  of  relative  importance, 
we  see  at  once  that  it  cannot  be  within  the 
province  of  a  common  or  a  vulgar  mind  con- 
sistently to  do  this,  more  especially  as  there 
must  not  only  be  the  perception  to  find  out, 
and  the  judgment  to  decide  upon  things  gen- 
erally, but  the  good  feeling — and  here  is  the 
great  point — to  make  that  subservient  which 
is  properly  inferior.  Thus  all  selfish  consid- 
erations must  be  set  aside,  all  low  calcula- 
tions, all  caprice,  all  vanity,  all  spite.  And 
in  how  many  instances  do  all  these,  with  a 
multitude  of  other  enemies  to  peace  and  hap- 
piness, mix  themselves  up  with  what  people 
persist  in  calling  good  management,  but  which 
from  this  lamentable  admixture,  makes  no- 
body like  such  management,  or  wish  to  be 
where  it  prevails ! 

Perhaps  it  has  occurred  to  nut  a  few  of  us 
to  see  one  of  these  reputed  good  managers, 
bustling  about  a  house  from  one  apartment 
to  another,  peeping  into  corners,  throwing 
open  closets,  emptying  drawers,  with  a  coun- 
tenance which  bid  defiance  for  the  time  to 
every  gentle  or  kindly  feeling ;  and  calling  to 
one  person,  despatching  another,  or  enumer- 
ating the  misdeeds  of  a  third,  with  a  voice 
which  even  in  its  distant  and  unintelligible 
utterance,  had  the  bitter  tone  of  raking  up 
old  grievances,  and  throwing  them  about  like 
firebrands  on  every  side.  And  then  the  burst- 
ing forth  of  the  actual  eruption,  where  such 
a  volcano  was  perpetually  at  work !  The 
fusion  of  heated  and  heterogeneous  particles 
into  one  general  mass — the  outpouring  indis- 
criminate and  vast — the  flame,  the  smoke,  the 
tumult !  what  is  there,  I  would  ask,  in  the 
absence  of  harmless  dust,  or  in  the  presence 


of  the  richest  and  best  concocted  food,  to  re- 
pay the  wretched  family  where  such  a  mana- 
ger presides,  for  what  must  be  endured 
through  the  course  of  any  single  day  1 

No — let  me  live  in  peace,  is  the  natural 
demand  of  every  human  heart ;  and  so  far 
as  relates  to  our  cookery,  and  our  carpets, 
we  are  happily  all  able  to  do  this.  We  must, 
therefore,  settle  it  in  our  minds,  that  whatever 
excellences  may  be  attained  in  the  prepara- 
tion of  food,  the  care  of  clothing,  the  arrange- 
ment of  furniture,  or  the  general  order  of 
rooms,  that  can  never  be  called  good  man- 
agement, which  fails  to  secure  peace,  and  to 
promote  happiness. 

Not  that  I  would  undervalue  the  care  of 
the  body,  so  far  as  tends  to  preserve  health, 
and  ensure  cheerfulness ;  or,  what  is  still 
more  important,  so  far  as  serves  to  evince  a 
high  degree  of  tenderness  and  affection,  strong 
evidence  of  which  may  sometimes  be  con- 
veyed through  this  channel,  when  no  other 
is  open.  It  is  the  supreme  importance  at- 
tached to  these  cares  and  anxieties,  which 
prevents  such  a  system  of  management  being 
properly  called  good. 

In  order  to  maintain  general  cheerfulness, 
and  promote  happiness  throughout  your 
household,  it  is  essential  that  you  cultivate 
within  your  own  mind,  a  feeling  of  content- 
ment with  your  home,  your  servants,  and 
your  domestic  affairs  in  general,  remembering 
that  nothing  which  occurs  to  you  in  this  de- 
partment is  the  result  of  mere  chance,  but 
that  all  your  trials,  as  well  as  your  enjoy- 
ments, are  appointed  by  a  kind  Providence, 
who  knows  better  than  you  can  know, 
exactly  what  is  ultimately  best  for  you.  It  is 
consequently  no  more  a  deviation  from  what 
you  ought  to  be  prepared  to  expect,  that 
your  servants  should  sometimes  do  wrong, 
that  your  plans  should  be  thwarted  by  folly 
and  perverseness,  or  that  your  house  should 
be  old  and  inconvenient ;  than  that  the  blos- 
soms in  your  garden  should  occasionally  be 
blighted,  or  that  a  shower  should  fall  at  the 
moment  you  had  fixed  for  going  out 

Yet,  to  maintain  this  desirable  cheerfulness 
through  all  circumstances,  is  certainly  no 


DOMESTIC  MANAGEMENT. 


79 


easy  task,  unless  both  health  and  temper 
have  been  carefully  attended  to  before  mar- 
riage ;  for  when  the  former  fails,  it  is  but  nat- 
ural that  the  animal  spirits  should  fail  too ; 
and  defects  of  temper  if  long  indulged,  so  as 
to  have  grown  into  habit,  will,  in  the  general 
conduct  of  domestic  affairs,  be  able  to  infuse 
a  taint  of  bitterness  into  the  kindest  endeav- 
ors, so  as  effectually  to  defeat  the  best  inten- 
tions. 

How  necessary  is  it,  therefore,  for  all 
women  to  have  learned  to  manage  them- 
selves, before  undertaking  the  management 
of  a  household,  for  the  charge  is  both  a  seri- 
ous, and  a  comprehensive  one;  and  how- 
ever inexperienced  a  wife  may  be,  however 
helpless,  uncalculating,  and  unequal  to  the 
task,  she  no  sooner  takes  upon  herself  the 
duties  of  a  mistress,  than  she  becomes,  in  a 
great  measure,  responsible  for  the  welfare  of 
every  member  of  the  family  over  which  she 
presides.  And  not  only  is  this  her  situation 
in  the  ordinary  course  of  things,  but  on  all 
extraordinary  occasions,  she  must  be  at  the 
same  post,  ever  on  the  alert,  prompt  to  direct, 
and  ready  with  expedients  suited  to  every 
emergency  that  may  occur. 

In  cases  of  illness  more  especially,  though 
the  more  laborious  duties  of  the  sick-room 
may  with  propriety  be  deputed  to  others, 
there  can  be  no  excuse  for  the  mistress  who 
does  not  make  it  her  business  to  see  that 
proper  attention  is  paid  to  the  directions  of 
the  doctor,  as  well  as  to  the  ventilation  of 
rooms,  and  all  those  other  means  of  allevia- 
ting pain,  or  facilitating  recovery,  instead  of 
which,  inexperienced  nurses  are  so  apt  to 
substitute  notions  and  nostrums  of  their 
own. 

But  beyond  the  care  of  the  patient,  that  of 
the  nurse  also  devolves  upon  the  mistress  of 
the  house,  to  see  that  her  wants  are  properly 
supplied,  that  a  judicious  distribution  of  her 
time  is  made,  so  as  to  allow  of  a  reasonable 
portion  of  rest ;  or,  if  wearied  out,  to  take 
care  that  her  place  is  supplied,  so  that  none 
may  have  to  complain  of  hardship  or  oppres- 
sion. And  here  we  may  observe  by  the  way, 
that  this  kind  of  care  and  consideration  be- 


stowed upon  those  who  habitually  bear  the 
burden  of  domestic  labor,  constitutes  one  of 
the  strongest  bonds  which  can  exist  between 
a  mistress  and  her  servants;  besides  re- 
warding her,  in  many  instances,  by  a  double 
measure  of  their  gratitude  and  their  faithful- 
ness. 

If  the  mistress  of  the  house,  as  is  not  un- 
frequently  the  case  with  kind-hearted  women, 
should  take  charge  of  the  patient  herself,  it 
then  becomes  her  duty  not  to  act  so  entirely 
from  the  impulse  of  feeling,  as  to  neglect  her 
own  health.  I  mention  this,  because  there  is 
a  kind  of  romantic  devotion  to  the  duties  of 
the  sick-room,  more  especially  where  the  suf- 
ferer is  an  object  of  interest  or  affection,  which 
carries  on  the  young  nurse  from  one  day  of 
solicitude  to  another,  without  refreshment, 
without  rest,  and  without  exercise  in  the  open 
air,  until  nature  being  completely  exhausted, 
she  herself  becomes  a  source  of  trouble,  and 
an  object  of  anxiety  and  care.  By  this  apparent 
generosity,  the  kindest  intentions  are  often 
frustrated  ;  while  the  household  of  such  a 
mistress  will  necessarily  be  thrown  into 
alarm  and  disorder,  at  the  very  time  when  it 
is  most  important  that  order  and  quiet  should 
be  maintained  throughout 

To  those  who  please  themselves  with  the 
idea  that  such  romantic  self-devotion  is  the 
extreme  of  generosity,  it  may  appear  a  cold 
kind  of  reasoning  to  advocate  the  importance 
of  self-preservation,  by  frequently  taking 
exercise  at  short  intervals  in  the  open  air. 
Yet,  I  own  I  am  one  of  those  who  prefer  the 
kindness  which  lasts,  to  that  which  expends 
itself  in  sudden  and  violent  effort ;  and  I 
would,  therefore,  strongly  urge  upon  the 
wife  not  only  to  attend  to  such  means  of  pro- 
longing her  own  usefulness,  but  to  see  that 
the  nurse  employed  under  her  direction  does 
the  same. 

Nor  is  it  only  in  such  cases  as  that  already 
described,  that  married  women  are  apt  to 
neglect  the  best  means  of  maintaining  cheer- 
fulness, and  preserving  health,  two  blessings 
which  they  above  all  other  persons  have  the 
most  reason  to  estimate  highly.  Not  that  I 
would  insinuate  an  idea  of  any  culpable  ne- 


80 


THE  WIVES  OF  ENGLAND. 


gleet  of  the  employment  of  doctors,  or  the 
use  of  medicines.  I  believe  this  can  scarcely 
be  charged  upon  the  wives  of  England,  as  a 
general  fault  But  I  have  known  some  wo- 
men almost  entirely  neglect  all  kinds  of  ex- 
ercise in  the  open  air,  either  because  they 
were  too  busy,  or  it  tired  them  too  much ;  or, 
for  that  most  amiable  of  all  reasons,  because 
their  husbands  were  absent,  and  they  were 
too  dependent  to  walk  alone.  And  thus,  from 
the  very  excess  of  their  affection,  they  were 
satisfied,  on  a  husband's  return,  to  be  weary, 
listless,  dispirited,  and  altogether  incapable  of 
adding  to  his  enjoyment,  whatever  he — hap- 
py man  that  he  must  be,  to  be  so  tenderly 
beloved ! — might  add  to  theirs. 

But  fortunately  for  the  character  of  woman, 
and  may  we  not  add,  for  the  patience  of  man, 
there  are  happier  methods  of  proving  the  ex- 
istence of  affection  than  that  which  is  exhibit- 
ed by  the  display  either  of  an  excessive  and 
imprudent  self-devotion,  which  effectually  de- 
feats its  own  object ;  or  a  weak  and  childish 
dependence,  which  is  nothing  better  than  a 
sort  of  disguised  selfishness.  In  accordance 
with  deeper  and  more  chastened  feelings  of 
regard,  is  that  system  of  careful  but  quiet 
watchfulness  over  the  general  health  of  a  hus- 
band, or  a  family,  which  detects  every  symp- 
tom of  indispositiot),  and  provides  against  all 
unnecessary  aggravation  of  such  symptoms 
by  any  arrangement  of  domestic  affairs  which 
can  be  made  so  as  to  spare  an  invalid,  or 
prevent  the  occurrence  of  illness. 

I  believe  that  nothing  tends  more  to  the 
increase  of  those  diseases  classed  in  popular 
phraseology  under  the  head  of  bilious,  which 
prevail  so  extensively  in  the  present  day, 
thau  long  fasting,  with  heavy  meals  at  the 
close  of  the  day.  Where  fashion  is  the  root 
of  this  evil,  it  is  to  be  supposed  that  the  suf- 
ferers have  their  own  reward ;  at  all  events, 
a  mere  matter  of  choice,  it  would  be  imperti- 
nence to  interfere  with ;  but  in  the  case  of 
those  husbands  whose  business  calls  them 
from  home  during  the  greater  part  of  every 
day,  surely  something  might  be  done  by  the 
wife,  to  break  through  this  habit,  either  by 
supplying  them  with  intermediate  refresh- 


ment, or  inducing  them  by  persuasion  or  ar- 
gument to  make  some  different  distribution 
of  their  time. 

And  where  symptoms  of  indisposition  do 
appear,  how  beautiful  is  that  display  of  affec- 
tion in  a  wife,  who  can  put  aside  all  her  own 
little  ailments  for  the  more  important  consid- 
eration of  those  of  a  husband ;  who  can  bear 
without  a  murmur  to  have  her  domestic  af- 
fairs at  any  moment  deranged,  so  as  may 
best  suit  his  feelings  or  his  health  ;  and  who 
can  make  up  her  mind  with  promptness  and 
cheerfulness,  even  to  accompany  him  from 
home,  at  any  sacrifice  of  her  own  comfort 
and  convenience !  How  precious  then  is  the 
health  and  the  ability  to  do  this,  and  to  do  it 
with  energy,  and  perfect  good-will — how 
much  more  precious  than  the  childish  fond- 
ness to  which  allusion  has  already  been 
made,  which  would  lead  her  to  sit  and  faint 
beside  him  in  his  illness,  or  to  neglect  the  ex- 
ercise necessary  for  her  own  health,  because, 
forsooth,  she  could  not  walk  without  him! 

Nor  let  it  be  imagined  from  the  familiar 
and  apparently  trifling  nature  of  the  instances 
adduced  in  relation  to  the  subject  of  domestic 
management,  that  the  subject  itself  is  one  of 
little  moment  Necessity  compels  the  selec- 
tion of  only  a  few  cases  from  the  mass  of  evi- 
dence which  might  be  brought  to  prove  how 
many  important  principles  may  be  acted  up- 
on in  the  familiar  transactions  of  every  day. 
The  woman  of  naturally  restless  and  irritable 
temper,  for  instance,  who,  without  controlling 
her  own  feelings,  would  effectually  destroy 
the  peace  of  every  member  of  her  household, 
may  by  habits  of  self-government,  and  by  a 
kind  and  disinterested  regard  for  the  happi- 
ness of  those  around  her,  so  far  restrain  the 
natural  impetuosity  of  her  character,  as  to 
become  a  blessing  instead  of  a  torment  to  the 
household  over  which  she  presides;  while 
the  tender  and  affectionate  wife,  who  would 
fondly  and  foolishly  waste  her  strength  by 
incessant  watching  over  a  husband,  or  a  child, 
may,  by  the  habit  of  making  impulse  subser- 
vient to  judgment  preserve  her  health  for 
the  service  of  many  a  future  day,  and  thus 
render  herself,  what  every  married  woman 


DOMESTIC  MANAGEMENT. 


81 


ought  to  be — the  support  and  the  comfort  of 
her  whole  household. 

We  see  here,  although  the  instances  them- 
selves  may  appear  insignificant,  that  in  these 
two  cases  are  exemplified  the  great  princi- 
ples of  disinterested  kindness,  prudence,  and 
self-government.  And  thus  it  is  with  every 
act  that  falls  within  the  sphere  of  female  duty. 
The  act  itself  may  be  trifling ;  but  the  motives 
by  which  it  is  sustained  may  be  such  as  to 
do  honor  to  the  religion  we*  profess.  And 
we  must  ever  bear  in  mind,  that  not  only  do 
we  honor  that  religion  by  engaging  in  public 
services  on  behalf  of  our  fellow-creatures,  OP 
for  the  good  of  our  own  souls ;  but  by  re- 
straining evil  tempers,  and  selfish  disposi- 
tions, in  the  privacy  of  our  own  domestic 
sphere;  and  by  cherishing  for  purposes  of 
practical  usefulness,  those  amiable  and  benev- 
olent feelings,  which  are  not  only  most  en- 
dearing to  our  fellow-creatures,  but  most  in 
accordance  with  the  perfection  of  the  Chris- 
tian character. 

In  turning  our  attention  again  to  the  prac- 
tical part  of  female  duty,  as  connected  with 
domestic  management,  that  important  study 
which  refers  to  the  best  means  of  economiz- 
ing time  and  money,  is  forcibly  presented  to 
our  notice.  Having  dwelt  at  considerable 
length  upon  the  subject  of  economy  of  time 
in  a  former  work,*  I  shall  not  repeat  the  ar- 
guments there  made  use  of  to  show  the  im- 
portance of  this  great  principle  of  good  man- 
agement ;  but  simply  state,  that  if  essential 
before  marriage  to  the  attainment  of  intel- 
lectual or  moral  good,  and  to  the  welfare  and 
comfort  of  those  with  whom  we  are  connect- 
ed ;  it  becomes  doubly  so  when  the  mistress 
of  a  house  has  not  only  to  economize  her 
own  time,  but  to  portion  out  that  of  others. 

In  this,  as  in  all  other  cases  where  good 
influence  is  made  the  foundation  of  rightly- 
exercised  authority,  the  married  woman  must 
not  forget  that  example  goes  before  precept. 
Whatever  then  may  be  the  trial  to  her  natu- 
ral feelings,  she  will,  if  actuated  by  this  prin- 
ciple, begin  the  day  by  rising  early ;  for  it  is 

*  The  Daughters  of  England. 


in  vain  to  urge  others  to  do  what  they  see  that 
we  have  not  either  the  strength,  or  not  the 
inclination  to  do  ourselves.  Besides  which, 
there  is  little  inducement  for  servants  or 
other  inferior  members  of  a  family  to  rise 
early,  when  they  know  that  the  business  of 
the  day  will  be  delayed  by  the  mistress 
herself  not  being  ready ;  while,  on  the  other 
hand,  if  prepared  to  expect  that  she  will  be 
up  early  herself,  there  are  few  who  could  be 
so  unaccommodating  as  to  thwart  her  wish- 
es by  not  endeavoring  to  be  ready  at  the  ap- 
pointed time. 

Nor  is  there  any  thing  depending  upon 
ourselves  which  tends  more  to  the  proper 
regulation  of  the  mind,  as  well  as  the  house- 
hold, than  the  habit  of  rising  early — so  early 
as  to  have  time  to  think,  as  most  persons  do 
in  the  morning  hours,  clearly  and  dispassion- 
ately ;  when,  free  from  the  disturbance  of  feel- 
ing so  often  excited  by  contact  with  others, 
the  mind  is  at  liberty  to  draw  its  own  con- 
clusions, from  a  general  survey  of  the  actual 
state  of  things,  uninterrupted  by  any  partial 
impressions  received  through  the  medium  of 
the  outward  senses.  Thus  it  often  happens, 
that  in  the  early  morning  we  are  brought  to 
serious  and  just  conclusions,  which  we  should 
never  have  arrived  at,  where  the  actual  cir- 
cumstances which  gave  rise  to  our  reflections, 
were  transpiring  beneath  our  notice,  or  had 
the  persons  most  intimately  connected  with 
such  cireumstances  been  present  during  the 
formation  of  our  opinions. 

The  morning,  then,  is  the  time  for  review- 
ing the  actions  and  events  of  the  previous 
day,  and  for  forming,  for  that  which  has  com- 
menced, a  new  set  of  plans,  upon  the  con- 
victions which  such  a  calm  and  impartial 
review  is  calculated  to  produce.  The  morn- 
ing is  the  time  for  gathering  our  thoughts 
together,  for  arranging  our  resources,  and  for 
asking  with  humble  reverence  that  Divine 
assistance,  without  which  we  have  no  right  to 
expect  that  the  coming  day  will  be  spent  more 
satisfactorily  than  the  past. 

Such  are  the  higher  advantages  derived 
from  habits  of  early  rising,  but  there  are  also 
practical  duties  to  be  attended  to  by  all  mar- 


82 


THE  WIVES  OF  ENGLAND. 


ried  women,  in  the  commencement  of  the 
day,  which  must  be  so  managed  as  not  to  in- 
terfere with,  or  delay  the  business  of  others ; 
or  the  end  of  early  rising  will  be  entirely  de- 
feated, as  regards  its  good  influence  upon  ttie 
general  habits  of  a  family. 

I  mention  this,  because  there  are  some 
well-intentioned  persons,  who  habitually  rise 
early,  and  are  yet  habitually  too  late  for 
breakfast,  wondering  not  the  less  every  day 
how  it  can  possibly  be  that  they  are  so.  To 
such  I  would  venture  to  hint,  that  despatch  is 
an  excellent  thing  in  whatever  we  have  to 
do ;  and  that  the  habit  of  trifling  is  one  of 
the  most  formidable  enemies  to  good  inten- 
tion in  this  respect,  because  at  the  same  time 
that  it  hinders  our  practical  usefulness,  it  be- 
guiles us  into  the  belief,  that  we  are  actually 
doing  something — nay,  even  a  great  deal ; 
yet,  look  to  the  end,  and  nothing  is  really  done. 

If  such  persons  are  unacquainted  with  the 
merits  of  despatch,  or  refuse  to  adopt  it  as  a 
wiser  and  a  better  rule,  I  know  of  nothing  they 
can  do,  except  it  be  to  rise  a  little  earlier,  and 
a  little  earlier  still,  until  they  find  that  they 
have  exactly  proportioned  their  time  to  their 
requirements ;  but  on  no  account  ought  they  to 
allow  the  breakfast,  or  the  business  of  the  day, 
to  be  retarded  so  as  to  meet  their  convenience. 
Whatever  time  they  take  from  sleep  is  their 
own,  and  they  have  a  right  to  dispose  of  it  as 
they  please ;  but  that  time  can  scarcely  be  call- 
ed so,  which  is  portioned  out  to  others,  espe- 
cially where  it  is  barely  sufficient  for  the  busi- 
ness they  are  required  to  do  through  the 
course  of  the  day. 

Perhaps  it  is  with  us  all  too  frequent  a 
mistake  to  suppose  that  time  is  our  own,  and 
that  the  higher  our  station,  and  consequently 
the  greater  the  number  of  persons  subject  to 
our  control,  the  more  entirely  this  is  the  case. 
I  have  already  said  that  the  time  we  take 
from  sleep,  may  with  some  justice  be  called 
so ;  but  except  in  a  state  of  existence  entirely 
isolated,  and  exempt  from  relative  duties,  I 
am  not  aware  how  conscientious  persons  can 
trifle  -with  time,  and  not  feel  that  they  are 
encroaching  upon  the  rights  of  others,  to  say 
nothing  of  the  more  serious  responsibility 


neglected  by  the  waste  of  so  valuable  a  talent 
committed  to  their  trust 

There  is  no  time  perhaps  so  entirely  wasted 
as  that  which  is  spent  in  waiting  for  others, 
because  while  expectation  is  kept  up  that 
each  moment  will  terminate  our  suspense,  we 
cannot  prudently  engage  in  any  other  occu- 
pation. If,  then,  the  mistress  of  a  house,  by 
habitual  delay  of  breakfast,  keeps  as  many  as 
four  persons  waiting  half  an  hour  every 
morning,  she  is  the  cause  of  two  valuable 
hours  being  wasted  to  them,  which  they 
would  most  probably  have  preferred  spend- 
ing in  any  other  way  rather  than  in  waiting 
for  her. 

It  must  of  course  be  allowed,  that  every 
master  and  mistress  of  a  family  enjoys  the 
right  of  breakfasting  as  late  as  they  choose, 
provided  they  give  directions  accordingly ; 
but  where  there  is  one  in  the  middle  ranks 
of  society  who  will  order  breakfast  at  ten, 
there  are  twenty  who  will  order  it  at  eight, 
and  not  be  ready  before  nine.  It  can  only 
be  to  such  deviations  from  arrangements 
made  by  the  heads  of  the  family,  and  under- 
stood by  all  its  members,  that  the  foregoing 
observations  apply. 

It  is  a  great  point  in  the  economy  of  time, 
that  different  kinds  of  work  should  be  made 
to  fill  up  different  intervals.  Hence  the  great 
value  of  having  a  variety  of  needlework, 
knitting,  &c.;  for  besides  the  astonishing 
amount  which  may  thus  almost  imperceptibly 
be  done,  a  spirit  of  contentment  and  cheer- 
fulness is  much  promoted  by  having  the 
hands  constantly  employed.  Thus,  if  ever 
the  mistress  of  a  house  spends  what  is  called 
the  dark  hours  in  idleness,  it  is  a  proof  that 
she  has  either  not  properly  studied  the  arts 
of  knitting  and  netting ;  or  that  she  is  a  very 
indifferent  workwoman  not  to  be  able  to  pay 
for  the  use  of  candles.  Could  such  persons 
once  be  brought  to  appreciate  the  really  bene- 
ficial effects  of  constant  employment  upon 
the  mind  and  temper,  could  they  taste  those 
sweet  musings,  or  enjoy  those  ingatherings 
of  thought,  which  are  carried  on  while  a  piece 
of  work  is  growing  beneath  their  hands, 
they  would  never  again  require  urging  to 


DOMESTIC  MANAGEMENT. 


83 


those  habits  of  industry  which  may  tru- 
ly be  said  to  bring  with  them  their  own  re- 
ward. 

Habitually  idle  persons  are  apt  to  judge 
of  the  difficulty  of  being  industrious,  by  what 
it  costs  them  to  do  any  thing  they  may  hap- 
pen to  undertake  ;  the  movements  of  a  natu- 
rally indolent  person  being  composed  of  a 
series  of  painful  exertions,  while  the  activity 
of  an  industrious  person  resembles  the  mo- 
tion of  a  well-regulated  machine,  which, 
having  been  once  set  at  work,  requires  com- 
paratively little  force  to  keep  it  going.  It  is 
consequently  by  making  industry  a  habit,  and 
by  no  other  means,  that  it  can  be  thoroughly 
enjoyed ;  for  if  between  one  occupation  and 
another,  time  is  allowed  for  sensations  of 
weariness  to  be  indulged,  or  for  doubts  to  be 
entertained  as  to  what  shall  be  done  next, 
with  those  who  have  much  to  do  all  such 
endeavors  to  be  industrious  must  necessarily 
be  irksome,  if  not  absolutely  laborious. 

How  pitiable  then  is  the  situation  of  that 
married  woman  who  has  never  fully  realized 
the  true  enjoyment  of  industry,  nor  the  ad- 
vantages of  passing  rapidly  from  one  occu- 
pation to  another,  as  if  it  was  the  business 
of  life  to  keep  doing,  rather  than  to  wait  to 
see  what  was  to  be  done,  and  to  question  the 
necessity  of  doing  it !  Pitiable,  indeed,  is  that 
woman,  because  in  a  well-regulated  house- 
hold, even  where  the  mistress  takes  no  part 
in  the  executive  business  herself,  there  must 
still  be  a  constant  oversight,  and  constant 
forethought,  accompanied  with  a  variety  of 
calculations,  plans,  and  arrangements,  which 
to  an  indolent  person  cannot  fail  to  be  irk- 
some in  the  extreme  ;  while  to  one  who  has 
been  accustomed  to  rely  upon  her  own  re- 
sources in  the  constant  exercise  of  industry, 
they  give  a  zest  and  an  interest  to  all 
the  duties  of  life,  and  at  the  same  time  im- 
part a  feeling  of  contentment  and  cheer- 
fulness sufficient  of  itself  to  render  every 
duty  light. 

There  is  no  case  in  which  example  is  more 
closely  connected  with  influence  than  in  this. 
A  company  of  idle  persons  can  keep  each 
other  in  countenance  to  almost  any  extent ; 


while  there  are  few  who  cannot  be  made 
ashamed  of  idleness  by  having  constantly 
before  them  an  example  of  industry.  Thus 
where  the  mistress  of  a  house  on  extraordi- 
nary occasions  is  ever  ready  to  lend  assistance 
herself;  where  she  evinces  a  decided  prefer- 
ence for  doing  things  with  her  own  hand, 
rather  than  seeing  them  left  undone ;  and 
where  it  is  known  that  her  mind  is  as  quick 
to  perceive  what  is  wanted  as  her  hand  is 
willing  to  execute  it ;  such  a  mistress  will 
seldom  have  to  complain  that  her  servants 
are  idle,  or  that  they  cannot  be  brought 
to  make  the  necessary  effort  when  extra 
work  has  to  be  done. 

'There  is,  however,  a  just  medium  to  be 
observed  between  doing  too  much,  and  too 
little,  in  domestic  affairs ;  and  this  point  of 
observance  must  be  regulated  entirely  by  the 
circumstances  of  the  family,  and  the  number 
of  servants  employed.  It  can  never  be  said 
that  the  atmosphere  of  the  kitchen  is  an  ele- 
ment in  which  a  refined  and  intellectual  wo- 
man ought  to  live ;  though  the  department 
itself  is  one  which  no  sensible  woman  would 
think  it  a  degradation  to  overlook.  But  in- 
stead of  maintaining  a  general  oversight  and 
arrangement  of  such  affairs,  some  well-inten- 
tioned women  plunge  head,  heart,  and  hand 
into  the  vortex  of  culinary  operations,  think- 
ing, feeling,  and  doing  what  would  be  more 
appropriately  left  to  their  servants. 

This  fault,  however,  is  one  which  belongs 
but  little  to  the  present  times.  It  was  the 
fault  of  our  grandmothers,  and  we  are  en- 
deavoring to  improve  upon  their  habits  by 
falling  into  the  opposite  extreme,  forgetting, 
in  our  eagerness  to  secure  to  ourselves  per- 
sonal ease  and  indulgence,  how  many  good 
and  kind  feelings  may  be  brought  into  exer- 
cise by  a  participation  in  the  practical  parl 
of  domestic  management — how  much  valua- 
ble health,  and  how  much  vivacity  and  cheer- 
fulness, alternating  with  wholesome  and  rea' 
rest,  are  purchased  by  habits  of  personal  ac- 
tivity. 

But  it  is  impossible  to  do  justice  to  this 
subject  without  entering  into  it  fully,  and  at 
considerable  length ;  and  having  already  done 


THE  WIVES  OF  ENGLAND. 


this  elsewhere,*  under  the  head  of  M  Kind- 
ness and  Consideration,"  I  will  spare  the 
reader  a  repetition  of  my  own  sentiments 
upon  a  subject  of  such  vital  importance  to 
the  wives  of  England. 


CHAPTER  X. 

OEDEH,  JUSTICE,  AM)  BENEVOLENCE. 

THE  general  tendency  of  domestic  manage- 
ment should  be,  to  establish  throughout  a 
household  the  principles  of  order,  justice,  and 
benevolence. 

In  speaking  first  of  order,  I  would  not  be 
understood  to  restrict  the  meaning  of  the 
word  to  such  points  of  observance  as  the 
placing  of  chairs  in  a  drawing-room,  or  or- 
naments on  a  mantelpiece.  The  principle  of 
order,  in  its  happiest  development,  has  to  do 
with  the  state  of  the  mind,  as  well  as  the 
personal  habits.  Thus  a  due  regard  to  the 
general  fitness  of  things,  correct  calculations 
as  to  time  and  means,  with  a  just  sense  of 
relative  importance,  so  as  to  keep  the  less 
subservient  to  the  greater,  all  belong  to  the 
department  of  order  in  a  well-goyerned  house- 
hold, and  should  all  be  exemplified  in  the 
general  conduct  of  the  mistress. 

There  is  no  surer  method  of  maintaining 
authority  over  others,  than  by  showing  that 
we  have  learned  to  govern  ourselves.  Thus 
a  well-ordered  mind  obtains  an  influence  in 
society,  which  it  would  be  impossible  for 
mere  talent,  without  this  regard  to  order, 
ever  to  acquire.  All  caprice,  all  hasty  or 
violent  expressions,  all  sudden  and  extrava- 
gant ebullitions  of  feeling  of  any  kind  what- 
ever, exhibited  before  servants  and  inferiors, 
have  a  tendency  to  lower  the  dignity  of  a 
mistress,  and  consequently  to  weaken  her 
influence. 

The  mistress  of  a  house  should  always 
appear  calm,  and  perfectly  self-possessed, 

*  The  Women  of  England. 


whether  she  feels  so  or  not ;  and  if  from  an 
accumulation  of  household  disasters,  partic- 
ularly such  as  mal-occurrences  before  her 
guests,  the  agitation  of  her  feelings  should 
be  too  great  for  her  powers  of  self-control, 
she  may  always  find  a  natural  and  appropri- 
ate outlet  for  them,  by  sympathizing  with 
other  sufferers  in  the  same  calamity,  and  thus 
evincing  her  regard  for  them,  rather  than  for 
herself. 

Nor  ought  we  to  class  this  species  of  self- 
discipline  with  those  artificial  manners  which 
are  assumed  merely  for  the  sake  of  effect 
If  the  same  individual  who  controlled  her 
feelings  before  her  guests,  should  go  out 
among  her  servants  and  give  lull  vent  to 
them  there,  such  a  case  would  certainly  de- 
serve to  be  so  classed.  But  the  self-control 
I  would  gladly  recommend,  is  of  a  widely 
different  order,  extending  to  a  mastery  over 
the  feelings,  as  well  as  the  expressions.  In 
the  former  case,  a  lady  seated  at  the  head  of 
her  table,  will  sometimes  speak  in  a  sharp 
whisper  to  a  servant,  with  a  countenance  in 
which  all  the  furies  might  be  represented  as 
one ;  when  suddenly  turning  to  her  guests, 
she  will  address  them  with  the  blandest 
smiles,  even  before  the  cloud  has  had  time  to 
vanish  from  her  brow.  In  the  latter  case, 
the  mistress  of  the  house  will  recollect,  that 
others  have  been  made  to  suffer  perhaps 
more  than  herself,  and  that  whatever  the 
cause  of  vexation  «r  distress  may  be,  it  can 
only  be  making  that  distress  greater,  for  her 
to  appear  angry  or  disturbed.  By  such 
habits  of  reflection,  and  by  the  mastery  of 
judgment  over  impulse,  she  will  be  able  in 
time,  not  only  to  appear  calm,  but  really  to 
feel  so  ;  or  if  there  should  be  just  as  much 
excitement  as  may  be  agreeably  carried  off 
in  condolence  with  her  friends,  there  will 
never  be  sufficient  ically  to  destroy  either 
their  comfort,  or  her  own  peace  of  mind. 

In  speaking  of  the  beauty  of  order,  would 
that  it  were  possible  to  impress  this  fact  upon 
the  minds  of  English  wives — that  there  is 
neither  beauty  nor  order  in  making  their  ser- 
vants and  their  domestic  affairs  in  general, 
the  subject  of  conversation  in  company.  To 


ORDER,  JUSTICE,  AND  BENEVOLENCE. 


85 


hear  some  good  ladies  talking,  one  would 
really  think  that  servants  were  a  sort  of 
plague  sent  upon  the  nation  at  large,  and 
upon  them  in  particular.  To  say  nothing  of 
the  wrong  state  of  feeling  evinced  by  allow- 
ing  one  of  our  greatest  sources  of  personal 
comfort  to  be  habitually  regarded  as  a  bane 
rather  than  a  blessing ;  we  see  here  one  of 
those  instances  in  which  the  laws  of  order 
are  infringed  by  a  disregard  to  the  fitness  of 
things  ;  for  however  interesting  our  domestic 
affairs  may  be  to  ourselves,  it  requires  but 
little  tact  or  observation  to  discover,  that  they 
interest  no  one  else,  unless  it  be  our  nearest 
and  most  intimate  friends,  whose  personal 
regard  to  us  will  induce  them  to  listen  with 
kindness  to  whatever  we  describe  as  being 
connected  with  our  welfare  or  happiness. 

Upon  the  same  principle,  a  history  of  bodily 
ailments  should  never  be  forced  upon  visit- 
ors ;  for  as  it  requires  either  to  be  an  intimate 
friend,  or  a  member  of  the  same  family,  to 
feel  any  particular  interest  in  the  good  or 
bad  practices  of  servants  ;  so  it  requires  that 
our  friends  should  be  very  tenderly  attached 
to  us  to  care  about  our  ailments,  or  even  to 
listen  with  any  real  attention  when  we  make 
them  the  subject  of  conversation.  In  all  such 
cases,  it  is  possible  that  a  third  party  may  be 
more  quick  to  perceive  the  real  state  of  things 
than  the  party  most  concerned  ;  but  I  own  I 
have  often  wondered  what  the  habitual  com- 
plainer  of  household  and  personal  grievances 
could  find  to  induce  her  to  go  on,  in  the 
averted  look,  the  indifferent  answer,  and  the 
absent  manner  of  her  guests ;  yet,  such  is 
the  entire  occupation  of  some  minds  with 
subjects  of  this  nature,  that  they  are  scarcely 
alive  to  impressions  from  any  other  source ; 
and  perhaps  the  surest  way  to  prevent  our 
annoyance  of  others,  is  to  recollect  how  often 
and  how  much  we  have  been  annoyed  in 
this  way  ourselves.  m 

It  is,  then,  no  mean  or  trifling  attainment 
for  the  mistress  of  a  house  to  be  thoroughly 
at  home  in  her  own  domestic  affairs ;  deeply 
interested  in  the  character  and  habits  of  all 
the  different  members  of  her  household,  so  as 
to  extend  over  them  the  care  and  the  solici- 


tude of  a  mother  ;  and  yet  before  her  guests, 
or  in  the  presence  of  her  friends,  to  be  per- 
fectly  disengaged,  able  to  enter  into  all  their 
causes  of  anxiety,  or  hope,  and  above  all,  to 
give  an  intellectual  character  and  a  moral 
tendency  to  the  general  tone  of-  the  conver- 
sation in  which  she  takes  a  part.  With  no- 
thing less  than  this  strict  regulation  of  the 
feelings,  as  well  as  the  habits,  this  regard  to 
fitness,  and  this  maintenance  of  order  in  the 
subserviency  of  one  thing  to  another,  ought 
the  wives  of  England  to  be  satisfied ;  for  it  is 
to  them  we  look  for  every  important  bias 
given  to  the  manners  and  the  morals  of  that 
class  of  society  upon  which  depends  so  much 
of  the  good  influence  of  England  as  a  nation. 

A  love  of  order  is  as  much  exemplified  by 
doing  any  thing  at  its  proper  time  as  in  its 
appropriate  place ;  and  it  rests  with  a  mis- 
tress of  a  house  to  see  that  her  own  time, 
and  that  of  her  servants,  is  judiciously  pro- 
portioned out.  Some  mistresses,  forgetting 
this,  and  unacquainted  with  the  real  advan- 
tages of  order,  are  in  the  habit  of  calling  their 
servants  from  one  occupation  to  another, 
choosing  extra  work  for  them  to  do  on  busy 
days,  crowding  a  variety  of  occupations  into 
one  short  space  of  time,  and  then  complain- 
ing that  nothing  is  thoroughly  done ;  while 
others  will  put  off  necessary  preparations  un- 
til so  late  that  everybody  is  flurried  and  con- 
fused, and  well  if  they  are  not  out  of  temper 
too.  It  may  possibly  have  occurred  to  others 
as  it  has  to  myself,  to  be  present  where,  on 
the  occasion  of  an  evening  party  being  ex- 
pected, all  the  good  things  for  the  entertain- 
ment had  to  be  made  on  the  afternoon  of  the 
same  day.  I  need  hardly  add  that  when  the 
guests  arrived,  neither  mistress  nor  servants 
were  in  a  very  fit  state  to  go  through  the 
ceremonial  of  a  dignified  reception. 

Forethought,  then,  is  a  most  essential  qual- 
ity in  the  mistress  of  a  house,  if  she  wishes 
to  maintain  throughout  her  establishment  the 
principle  of  order.  Whatever  others  do,  she 
must  tkink.  It  is  not  possible  for  order  to  ex- 
ist, where  many  minds  are  employed  in  di- 
recting a  variety  of  movements.  There 
must  be  one  presiding  intellect  to  guide  the 


THE  WIVES  OF  ENGLAND. 


whole;  and  whether  the  household  to  be 
governed  belong  to  a  mansion  or  a  cottage, 
whether  the  servants  to  be  directed  be  many 
or  few,  that  presiding  power  must  be  vested 
iii  the  mistress,  or  in  some  one  individual 
deputed  to  act  in  her  stead.  It  is  from  leav- 
ing this  thinking  and  contriving  part,  along 
with  the  executive,  to  servants,  that  we  see 
perpetuated  so  many  objectionable  and  ab- 
surd methods  of  transacting  the  business  of 
domestic  life;  methods  handed  down  from 
one  generation  to  another,  and  acted  upon 
sometimes  with  great  inconvenience  and 
equal  waste,  simply  because  habit  has  ren- 
dered it  a  sort  of  established  thing,  that 
whatever  is  done,  should  be  done  in  a  cer- 
tain manner;  for  servants  are  a  class  of 
people  who  think  but  little,  and  many  of 
them  would  rather  take  double  pains,  and 
twice  the  necessary  length  of  time  in  doing 
their  work  the  old  way,  than  risk  the  experi- 
ment of  a  new  one,  even  if  it  should  ever 
occur  to  them  to  make  it 

It  must  rest  with  the  mistress,  then,  to  in- 
troduce improvements  and  facilities  in  the 
transaction  of  household  business ;  and  she 
will  be  but  little  fitted  for  her  office  who  has 
not  studied  before  her  marriage  the  best  way 
of  doing  common  and  familiar  things.  What- 
ever her  good  intentions,  or  even  her  meas- 
ure of  good  sense  may  be,  she  will  labor  un- 
der painful  disadvantages,  and  difficulties 
scarcely  to  be  overcome,  by  taking  up  this 
study  for  the  first  time  after  she  has  become 
the  mistress  of  a  house ;  for  all  points  of 
failure  here,  her  own  servants  will  be  quick 
to  detect,  and  most  probably  not  slow  to 
take  advantage  of. 

A  married  woman  thus  circumstanced,  will 
certainly  act  most  wisely  by  studiously  con- 
ceafing  her  own  ignorance ;  and  in  order  to 
do  this  effectually,  she  must  avoid  asking 
foolish  questions,  at  the  same  time  that  she 
watches  every  thing  that  is  done  with  care- 
ful and  quiet  scrutiny,  so  as  to  learn  the  how 
and  tire  why  of  every  trivial  act  before  en- 
gaging in  it  herself,  or  even  venturing  a  re- 
mark upon  the  manner  in  which  it  may  be 
done  by  others. 


But  essential  as  knowledge  is  to  good  do- 
mestic management,  we  must  ever  bear  in 
mind  that  knowledge  is  not  all.  There  must 
be  a  love  of  order,  a  sense  of  fitness,  a  quick 
perception  of  the  appropriateness  of  time 
and  place,  lively  impressions  of  reality  and 
truth,  and  clear  convictions  on  the  subject  of 
relative  importance ;  and  in  order  to  the  com- 
plete qualification  of  a  good  wife  and  mis- 
tress, there  must  be  along  with  all  these,  not 
only  a  willingness,  but  a  strong  determina- 
tion to  act  upon  such  impressions  and  con- 
victions to  the  full  extent  of  their  power  to 
promote  social,  domestic,  and  individual  hap- 
piness. 

And  if  all  these  requirements  are  to  be 
classed  under  the  head  of  order,  we  must 
look  for  those  which  are  still  more  serious 
under  that  of  justice. 

The  word  justice  has  a  somewhat  start- 
ling sound  to  female  ears,  and  I  might  per- 
haps be  induced  to  use  a  softer  expression, 
could  I  find  one  suited  to  my  purpose ; 
though  after  all,  I  fancy  we  should  none  of 
us  be  much  the  worse  for  having  the  word 
justice,  in  its  simple  and  imperative  strict- 
ness, more  frequently  applied  to  our  relative 
and  social  duties.  It  is,  in  fact,  a  good  old- 
fashioned  notion,  that  of  doing  justice,  which 
has  fallen  a  little  too  much  into  disuse ;  or 
perhaps,  I  ought  rather  to  say,  has  been  dis- 
missed from  its  place  among  female  duties, 
and  considered  too  exclusively  as  belonging 
to  points  of  law  and  cases  of  public  trial. 

I  am  well  aware  that  justice  in  its  highest 
sense  belongs  not  to  creatures  frail,  short- 
sighted, and  liable  to  deception  like  our- 
selves ;  but  that  strong  sense  of  truth,  and 
honesty,  and  individual  right,  which  we 
naturally  include  in  our  idea  of  the  love 
of  justice,  was  surely  given  us  to  be  exer- 
cised in  our  dealings  with  each  other,  and  in 
the  general  conduct  of  our  domestic  affairs. 
This  regard  to  what  is  just  in  itself,  necessa- 
rily including  what  is  due  to  others,  and  what 
is  due  from  them  also,  is  the  moral  basis  up- 
on \vhich  all  good  management  depends  ;  for 
when  once  this  foundation  is  removed,  an 
inlet  is  opened  for  innumerable  lower  mo- 


ORDER,  JUSTICE,  AND  BENEVOLENCE. 


87 


tives,  such  as  selfishness,  vanity,  caprice,  and 
a  host  of  others  of  the  same  unworthy  char- 
acter, to  enter  and  mix  themselves  up  with 
the  conduct  of  daily  life. 

We  cannot  therefore  be  too  studious  to  de- 
tect, or  too  prompt  to  overcome,  these  ene- 
mies to  right  feeling  and  to  duty  ;  and  I  be- 
lieve we  shall  be  best  enabled  to  do  this,  with 
the  Divine  blessing  upon  our  endeavors,  by 
a  habit  of  constantly  stretching  our  ideas  to 
the  broad  and  comprehensive  nature  of  jus- 
tice in  general — justice  in  its  simplicity  and 
its  strictness,  without  deterioration  from  the 
influence  of  custom,  and  without  those  quali- 
fications which  owe  their  existence  to  an  arti- 
ficial state  of  society. 

Imbued  with  a  strong  sense  of  justice,  the 
kind  and  considerate  mistress  will  see  that 
every  member  of  her  household  has  some 
rights  which  others  ought  not  to  be  allowed 
to  infringe ;  and  if  she  be  attentive  to  the 
welfare  of  her  family,  she  will  find  sufficient 
exercise  for  her  love  of  justice  in  the  settle- 
ment of  all  differences  which  may  arise  out 
of  the  clashing  of  individual  interests.  Even 
the  most  insignificant  member  of  such  a 
family,  that  unfortunate  attached  to  almost 
all  establishments  under  the  name  of  "the 
boy,"  all  from  him  down  to  the  very  animals, 
will  have  their  rights,  and  such  rights  can 
only  be  consistently  maintained  by  the  au- 
thority of  one  presiding  mind. 

Thus  the  abuse  or  the  neglect  of  domestic 
animals  can  never  prevail  to  any  great  extent, 
where  the  mistress  does  her  duty ;  for  though 
servants  will  sometimes  lavish  their  caresses 
upon  such  creatures,  they  are  for  the  most 
part  careless  about  their  actual  wants ;  and 
unless  properly  instructed,  and  even  looked 
after  in  this  respect,  they  will  sometimes  be 
absolutely  cruel.  The  mistress  of  a  house 
may  thus  have  an  opportunity  of  teaching 
her  servants,  what  they  possibly  will  have 
had  no  means  of  learning  at  home,  that  these 
are  creatures  committed  to  our  care  by  their 
Creator  and  ours,  and  that  we  have  no  more 
right  to  practise  cruelty  upon  them,  than  we 
have  to  disobey  the  righteous  law  of  God  in 
any  other  respect 


Regarding  the  important  subject  of  econo- 
my in  its  character  of  a  great  moral  obliga- 
tion, rather  than  simply  as  an  individual 
benefit,  I  shall  place  it  under  the  head  of  jus- 
tice ;  and  I  do  this  in  the  humble  hope,  that 
when  so  classed,  it  may  obtain  a  greater 
share  of  serious  attention  than  could  be  de- 
sired, were  the  subject  to  be  considered  the 
mere  act  of  saving  money.  True  economy, 
and  that  which  alone  deserves  our  regard  as 
a  study,  I  have  already  described  as  consist- 
ing in  doing  the  greatest  amount  of  good  with 
the  smallest  pecuniary  means — not  only  good 
to  the  poor,  and  to  society  in  general,  but 
good  to  the  family  of  which  we  form  a  part ; 
and  of  course  this  study  includes  the  preven- 
tion of  absolute  waste  in  any  department 
whatever.  Such  a  system  of  economy,  I 
consider  to  be  entirely  distinct  from  the  mere 
act  of  saving  money ;  except  so  far  as  that 
all  economical  persons  will  endeavor  to  save 
money  to  a  certain  extent,  in  order  that  they 
or  their  families  may  not  be  dependent  upon 
others.  A  sense  of  justice  will  also  induce 
them  to  make  a  suitable  provision  for  those 
under  their  care,  without  doing  which  they 
have  certainly  no  right  to  be  generous. 

Everything  necessary  to  the  practice  of  this 
kind  of  equitable  economy,  is  consequently 
necessary  to  the  exercise  of  justice.  We 
shall  therefore  turn  our  attention  the  more 
seriously  to  a  few  hints  on  the  most  common- 
place of  all  subjects — that  of  saving. 

Nor  let  the  refined  and  fastidious  young 
wife,  retaining  all  her  boarding-school  con- 
tempt for  such  homely  household  virtues, 
dismiss  the  subject  with  the  hasty  conclusion, 
that  such  studies  are  only  for  the  vulgar  or 
the  low.  There  are  those  who  could  tell  her, 
that  there  is  a  vulgarity  in  extravagance,  of 
which  the  really  well-bred  are  seldom  guilty ; 
and  that  no  persons  are  so  much  addicted  to 
the  lavish  and  indiscriminate  waste  of  money, 
as  those  who  have  been  raised  from  low  birth 
and  education  to  affluent  means. 

But  it  is  impossible  to  believe  that  the 
sound-minded,  honest-hearted,  upright  wo- 
men, who  form  the  majority  of  English  wives, 
should  deceive  themselves  by  notions  so  ab- 


m 


THE  WIVES  OF  ENGLAND. 


surd  as  these ;  and  I  only  wish  it  were  pos- 
sible to  embody  in  the  present  work,  the 
united  evidence  of  such  women  in  favor  of 
the  plans  they  have  themselves  found  most 
conducive  to  the  promotion  of  comfort  and 
economy  combined. 

I  place  these  two  words  together,  because 
that  can  never  be  called  good  management, 
which  has  not  reference  to  both,  or  which 
extracts  from  the  one  for  the  purpose  of  add- 
ing to  the  other ;  that  can  never  be  called 
good  management,  where  economy  takes  pre- 
cedence of  comfort,  except  only  in  cases  of 
debt,  where  comfort  ought  unquestionably  to 
give  place  to  honesty ;  and  still  less  can  that 
be  called  good  management  where  comfort  is 
the  only  consideration,  because  the  higher  con- 
sideration of  justice  must  then  be  neglected. 

In  order  to  carry  out  the  principle  of  jus- 
tice in  her  household  transactions,  it  is  highly 
important  that  the  mistress  of  a  family  should 
make  herself  thoroughly  acquainted  with  the 
prices  and  qualities  of  all  common  and  famil- 
iar things,  that  she  may  thus  be  enabled  to 
pay  equitably  for  every  thing  brought  into  her 
house.  These  are  opportunities  of  observing 
or  violating  the  laws  of  justice,  which  few 
mistresses  have  the  energy,  and  still  fewer 
the  inclination,  to  look  after  themselves ;  and 
they  are  consequently  left  for  the  most  part 
to  servants  and  trades-people  to  adjust  as 
they  think  proper,  each  regarding  their  own 
interest  and  convenience,  as  it  is  perfectly 
natural  that  they  should.  Servants  of  course 
prefer  having  every  article  of  household  con- 
sumption brought  to  the  door ;  and  in  large 
towns  this  is  easily  managed  by  small  traders 
in  such  articles,  who  can  regulate  their  prices 
as  they  think  proper,  without  the  cognizance 
of  the  mistress  of  the  house,  and  sometimes 
without  any  direct  reference  to  what  is  the 
real  marketable  value  of  their  property.  That 
too  much  is  trusted  to  interested  parties  in 
such  cases  as  these,  must  be  clear  to  the 
meanest  understanding ;  for  we  all  know  the 
tendency  there  is  in  human  nature,  to  use  for 
selfish  purposes  the  power  of  doing  what  is 
not  strictly  right,  and  especially  where  this 
can  be  done  without  fear  of  detection. 


In  the  "Daughters  of  England"  I  have 
strongly  recommended  that  young  women 
should  cultivate  habits  of  attention  to  the 
public  as  well  as  the  private  affairs  of  the 
country  in  which  they  live,  so  far  as  to  ob- 
tain a  general  knowledge  of  its  laws  and  in- 
stitutions, and  of  the  great  political  move- 
ments taking  place  around  them.  The  abuse 
of  such  knowledge  is  to  make  it  the  basis  of 
party  feeling  and  political  animosity  ;  but  its 
proper  and  legitimate  use  is  that  which  ena- 
bles respectable,  influential,  and  patriotic  wo- 
men, to  carry  out  the  views  of  an  enlightened 
legislature  through  those  minor  channels 
which  form  the  connection  between  public 
and  private  life,  and  the  right  direction  of 
which  is  of  the  utmost  importance  to  the 
welfare  of  the  country  in  general. 

How  little  do  women,  poring  over  their 
worsted  work,  sometimes  think  of  these 
things !  How  little  do  they  reflect,  that  not 
only  is  it  a  part  of  their  duty  to  govern  their 
household  well,  but  so  to  govern  it,  that  those 
wise  and  benevolent  enactments  designed  for 
the  good  of  the  nation  at  large,  which  it  has 
been  put  into  the  hearts  of  our  rulers  to 
make,  may  not  be  frustrated  for  want  of  their 
prompt  and  willing  concurrence !  When  once 
this  idea  has  been  fully  impressed  upon  the 
mind  of  woman,  she  will  not,  she  cannot, 
think  it  a  degradation  to  use  every  personal 
effort  for  the  correction  of  public  abuses, 
rather  than  it  should  be  said,  that  while  the 
legislature  of  England  evinced  the  utmost 
solicitude  for  the  happiness  of  the  people, 
there  was  not  patriotism  enough  among  her 
women  to  assist  in  promoting  their  general 
good. 

But  to  return  to  particular  instances  of  do- 
mestic economy.  The  habit  of  making  what 
are  called  "  cheap  bargains,"  does  not  appear 
to  me  worthy  of  being  classed  under  this 
head ;  because  the  principle  of  economy 
would  inspire  a  wish  to  pay  an  equitable  and 
fair  price  for  a  good  article,  rather  than  a  low 
price  for  a  poor  one ;  and  in  ninety-nine  cases 
out  of  a  hundred,  articles  offered  for  sale  as 
being  remarkably  cheap,  are  of  very  inferior 
quality. 


ORDER,  JUSTICE,  AND  BENEVOLENCE. 


89 


But  above  all  other  things  to  be  guarded 
against  in  making  bargains,  is  that  of  taking 
advantage  of  the  poor.  It  is  a  cruel  system 
carried  on  by  the  world,  and  one  against 
which  woman,  with  her  boasted  kindness  of 
heart,  ought  especially  to  set  her  face — that 
of  first  ascertaining  the  position,  or  degree 
of  necessity  of  the  party  we  deal  with,  and 
then  offering  a  price  accordingly.  Yet,  how 
often  do  we  hear  the  expression — "  I  get  it 
done  so  well,  and  so  cheaply  ;  for,  poor  things, 
they  are  in  such  distress,  they  are  glad  to  do 
it  at  any  price  !" 

And  a  pitiful  sight  it  is  to  see  the  plain 
work,  and  fine  work  too,  that  is  done  upon 
such  terms.  A  pitiful  thing  it  is  to  think  of 
the  number  of  hours  which  must  have  been 
spent,  perhaps  in  the  endurance  of  hunger 
and  cold,  before  the  scanty  pittance  was  earn- 
ed ;  and  to  compare  this  with  the  golden 
sums  so  willingly  expended  at  some  fashion- 
able milliner's,  where,  because  the  lady  of  the 
house  is  not  in  want,  the  kind-hearted  pur- 
chaser would  be  sorry  to  insult  her  feelings 
by  offering  less. 

The  same  principle  applies  to  ready  pay- 
ment of  the  poor.  It  is  a  mockery  of  words, 
to  tell  them  you  have  no  change.  The  poor 
know  perfectly  well  that  change  is  to  be  had ; 
and  when  you  tell  them  to  call  again  in  a  few 
day?,  or  when  it  is  more  convenient  to  attend 
to  them,  perhaps  the  disappointed  applicant 
goes  sorrowing  home,  to  meet  the  eager 
glance  of  a  parent,  or  a  child,  who  has  been 
all  day  calculating  upon  some  article  of  food 
or  clothing,  which  that  little  payment  was  ex- 
pected to  have  furnished  them  with  the  means 
of  procuring. 

I  am  aware  that  disappointments  of  this 
kind  are  sometimes  unavoidable ;  but  I  ap- 
peal to  my  countrywomen,  whether  as  a  mere 
matter  of  convenience,  the  poor  ought  to  be 
sent  empty  away,  when  the  rich  and  the  in- 
dependent, because  of  their  greater  influence, 
and  the  higher  respect  in  which  they  are 
held,  are  paid  in  a  prompt  and  willing  man- 
ner, nothing  being  said  either  about  inconve- 
nience or  difficulty. 

To  all  persons,  however,  whether  high  or 


low,  rich  or  poor,  it  is  highly  important  to 
good  management  that  frequent  payments 
should  be  made.  Weekly  payment  of  all 
trades-people  is  the  best,  because  then  neither 
party  has  time  to  forget  what  has  been  bought, 
and  they  are  consequently  less  likely  to  make 
mistakes  in  their  final  settlement  As  a  check 
upon  such  mistakes  in  the  making  up  of  ac- 
counts, it  is  indispensable  that  all  bills  should 
be  kept  for  a  year  at  least  after  their  payment ; 
and  though  this  practice  may  at  first  appear 
useless  and  troublesome,  ample  satisfaction 
will  eventually  be  derived  by  exemption  from 
all  that  uncomfortable  feeling  which  arises 
from  uncertainty  in  this  respect — from  an  idea 
of  having  either  injured  another,  or  being  in- 
jured one's  self. 

There  is  a  foolish  habit  to  which  many 
shopkeepers  are  addicted,  of  persuading  mar- 
ried women,  and  particularly  the  young  and 
inexperienced,  to  purchase  on  credit  When 
they  see  a  lady  evidently  tempted,  looking  at 
an  article  again  and  again,  and  repeatedly 
asking  the  price,  as  if  in  the  hope  each  time 
of  finding  it  less,  it  is  perfectly  natural  in  them, 
if  they  know  the  respectability  of  their  cus- 
tomer, to  fall  in  with  her  weakness,  and,  ac- 
commodating themselves  to  her  inadequate 
means,  to  offer  the  tempting  article,  to  be  paid 
for  on  some  distant  day.  It  is  still  more  fool- 
ish, therefore,  in  the  woman  who  goes  unpro- 
vided for  such  a  purchase,  to  trust  herself  so 
far  as  to  trifle  with  temptation ;  but  the  ex- 
treme of  her  folly,  is  to  allow  herself  to  be 
prevailed  upon,  at  last,  to  take  what  she 
cannot  pay  for,  and  probably  does  not  really 
want 

It  is  often  stated  by  imprudent  women,  as 
an  excuse  for  buying  what  they  do  not  need, 
that  it  was  "  so  extremely  cheap ;"  but  that 
must  always  be  a  dear  article  to  us  which  we 
have  no  use  for ;  and  the  money  which  such 
tilings  would  cost  must,  in  the  end,  prove 
more  valuable  than  the  cheapest  goods  which 
are  not  necessary,  or  not  calculated  to  be 
of  use. 

Married  women  who  love  justice  to  them- 
selves as  well  as  to  others,  should  always 
keep  strict  accounts.  Without  some  evidence 


90 


THE  WIVES  OF  ENGLAND. 


of  this  kind,  husbands  are  sometimes  a  little 
incredulous,  and  such  a  proof  of  the  right 
distribution  of  her  means,  no  one  need  hesi- 
tate to  show.  While,  however,  the  husband 
is  thus  enabled  to  see  for  himself  what  has 
been  the  actual  expenditure,  it  must  not  be 
supposed  that  he  is  qualified  to  judge  in  all 
cases  of  the  necessity  for  such  expenditure 
being  made.  The  wife  alone  can  do  this ; 
and  if  she  enjoys  that  inestimable  blessing  to 
a  married  woman,  her  husband's  confidence, 
he  will  be  satisfied  that  all  the  rest  is  right, 
whether  he  understands  it  or  not  There  is 
no  doubt,  if  he  was  consulted  about  every 
purchase  to  be  made,  he  would  think  in  some 
instances  that  the  article  could  be  done  with- 
out ;  while  in  others,  he  would  probably 
choose  a  far  more  expensive  one  than  was 
necessary.  A  wise  and  prudent  woman  will, 
therefore,  so  manage  these  affairs,  as  to  ob- 
tain the  privilege  of  having  them  left  entirely 
to  her  judgment 

She  will  find  t»o,  that  economy  does  not 
consist  so  much  in  buying  little,  as  in  buying 
suitably  ;  for  a  house  or  a  wardrobe  may  be 
so  scantily  supplied,  that  each  article  has  to 
do  the  service  of  many,  and  is  thus  prema- 
turely worn  out,  or  effectually  destroyed,  by 
being  put  to  uses  for  which  it  never  was  de- 
signed. The  poor  girl  who  has  but  a  thin 
pair  of  shoes,  and  no  money  to  buy  stronger, 
must  unavoidably  destroy  them  in  one  day's 
journey  ;  when,  had  they  been  used  only  for 
proper  purposes,  they  might  have  lasted  a 
year.  And  it  is  the  same  with  a  scantily  fur- 
nished kitchen.  Absolute  waste  to  a  very 
great  extent  must  necessarily.be  the  conse- 
quence of  having  but  few  implements  for 
daily  use,  and  making  them  serve  every  pur- 
pose as  occasion  may  require.  With  the  best 
supply  of  kitchen  utensils,  however,  their  se- 
lection and  use  ought  not  to  be  left  entirely 
to  servants.  The  mistress  herself  must  some- 
times direct  in  this  department,  unless  she 
would  see  the  amount  of  her  bills  alarmingly 
increased  by  the  habit  most  servants  have, 
of  snatching  up  what  is  nearest  to  them, 
rather  than  thinking  what  is  fittest  to  be  used. 

The  same  rule  applies  to  household  linen, 


of  which  an  ample  supply,  given  out  with 
regularity  and  judgment,  will  always  be  found 
most  economical  in  the  end.  But  on  no  ac- 
count whatever  let  any  deficiency  in  this  de- 
partment, or  in  that  of  your  kitchen,  be  sup- 
plied by  borrowing.  There  is  no  occasion  for 
the  delects  of  your  establishment  to  be  made 
known  to  others,  and,  except  in  sases  of  ex- 
traordinary emergency,  if  you  cannot  afford 
to  purchase  what  is  wanted,  the  sooner  you 
learn  to  do  without  it  the  better. 

With  regard  to  food,  too,  I  am  inclined  to 
think  that  to  have  a  table  comfortably  sup- 
plied with  a  moderate  variety  of  dishes,  is 
by  no  means  inconsistent  with  the  strictest 
economy.  I  have  sometimes  even  fancied 
that  a  spare  dinner  had  the  effect  of  produc- 
ing a  very  disproportionate  appetite ;  at  least 
I  remember,  when  a  girl,  having  occasionally 
the  privilege  of  sitting  down  to  a  table  of  this 
kind,  when  I  always  felt  most  perversely  in- 
clined to  eat  up  every  thing  that  was  set  be- 
fore me. 

But  leaving  this  fact  to  be  settled  by  politi- 
cal economists,  it  must  be  allowed  that  per- 
sons in  general  are  not  so  childish  as  to  eat 
more,  because  they  see  more  ;  and  in  the  ap- 
pearance of  a  well-supplied  table,  there  is  an 
air  of  comfort  and  respectability,  which  un- 
der ordinary  circumstances,  I  cannqt  think 
we  should  derive  any  advantage  from  giving 
up.  Besides  which,  a  certain  extent  of  va- 
riety affords  opportunity  for  bringing  out 
again,  in  a  more  attractive  form,  many  things 
•which  must  have  been  otherwise  dismissed 
altogether.  In  this  art  the  French  have  ar- 
rived at  great  perfection  ;  and  as  a  proof  of 
the  correctness  of  these  observations,  the 
cheapness  of  their  way  of  living  is  always  a 
subject  of  surprise  to  the  English,  on  their 
first  acquaintance  with  French  habits. 

Still,  we  must  feel  that  the  system  is  a  dan- 
gerous one,  when  it  leads  to  excess  ;  far  bet- 
ter— far  better  is  it  to  eat  the  last  morsel  of 
plain  food  prepared  every  day,  than  to  give 
the  time,  and  the  thoughts,  too  much  to  the 
preparation  and  enjoyment  of  food. 

But  the  great  point  to  be  observed,  both  in 
the  study  and  the  practice  of  economy,  is  to 


ORDER,  JUSTICE,  AND  BENEVOLENCE. 


91 


proportion  your  expenditure  to  your  means. 
The  difference,  even  of  a  hundred  a  year,  in 
the  income  of  a  family,  makes  a  considerable 
difference  in  the  duties  of  the  mistress  with 
regard  to  economy.  Thus,  it  may  be  highly 
meritorious  for  one  married  woman  to  do  all 
her  needlework  herself,  while,  in  another,  it 
would  evince  a  disregard  for  the  fitness  of 
things,  to  spend  her  time  in  doing  what  she 
would  be  more  in  the  way  of  her  duty  to  em- 
ploy the  poor  and  the  needy  to  do  for  her. 

In  all  these  cases,  it  is  evident  that  princi- 
ple, rather  than  inclination,  must  form  the 
basis  of  our  actions ;  and  in  following  out  the 
principle  of  justice  more  especially,  that  self 
must  hold  a  very  inferior  place  in  our  calcu- 
lations. The  same  may  be  said  of  those  du- 
ties which  follow,  and  which  are  comprised 
under  the  head  of  benevolence ;  for  though 
selfishness  and  generosity  may,  in  the  first 
view,  appear  to  be  directly  opposite  in  their 
nature,  the  act  of  giving  is,  in  many  cases, 
.only  the  gratification  of  a  refined  selfishness, 
with  which  the  principle  of  integrity  has  to 
wage  determined  war.  Thus  there  can  be 
no  generosity  in  giving  what  is  not,  strictly 
speaking,  our  own,  nor  justice  in  receiving 
thanks  for  what  we  had  no  right  to  give. 

To  be  solicitous  either  to  give,  or  to  receive, 
costly  presents  in  your  own  family,  is  a  sort 
of  childish  weakness,  and  particularly  to  ex- 
pect such  presents  from  a  husband,  for  where 
there  is  a  perfect  identity  of  feeling  and  pos- 
session, both  as  regards  money  and  good?, 
the  wife  may  just  as  well  purchase  the  val- 
uable article  for  herself.  There  is,  however, 
something  gratifying  to  every  heart  in  being 
remembered  during  absence ;  but  the  gratifi- 
cation consists  rather  in  finding  that  our  tri- 
fling wants  have  been  thought  of  and  sup- 
plied, than  that  the  indulgence  of  our  self-love 
or  our  vanity  has  had  to  be  taken  into  ac- 
count ;  and  a  thimble  in  such  a  case  may  be 
more  valuable  than  a  costly  gem. 

The  married  woman,  as  soon  as  she  takes 
upon  herself  the  responsibility  of  standing  at 
the  head  of  an  establishment,  should  with- 
draw herself  in  a  great  measure  from  those 
little  obligations  and  kindnesses,  which  as  a 


young  woman  and  unmarried,  she  might 
with  propriety  have  received.  She  must, 
therefore,  strictly  avoid  courting  such  favors, 
especially  from  the  great,  remembering  that 
in  being  the  mistress  of  a  house,  she  has  her- 
self become  a  source  from  whence  kindness 
ought  to  flow,  and  consequently  is  not  so 
proper  an  object  for  receiving  it 

To  be  "just  before  we  are  generous,"  is  a 
good  old  maxim.  The  duties  of  benevolence 
must,  therefore,  always  be  made  subservient 
to  those  of  integrity.  But  still,  where  a  fami- 
ly is  neither  in  debt,  nor  in  want  of  the  com- 
mon necessaries  of  life,  there  must  be  some- 
thing due  from  such  a  family  to  those  who 
are  more  needy  than  themselves. 

It  is  a  privilege  we  all  enjoy,  of  being  at 
liberty  to  choose  our  own  way  of  being  char- 
itable ;  yet  if  we  think  seriously  on  the  sub- 
ject of  giving,  as  a  duty,  and  regard  our 
means  as  only  lent  to  us  for  the  purpose  of 
doing  the  greatest  possible  amount  of  good 
which  they  are  capable  of  effecting ;  we  shall 
find  that  instead  of  its  being  the  mere  indul- 
gence of  a  natural  impulse,  to  give,  it  is  often 
the  study  of  a  lifetime  to  learn  how  to  give 
judiciously. 

To  judge  by  the  frequency  of  its  practice, 
one  would  suppose  that  one  of  the  most  ap- 
proved methods  of  serving  the  poor,  was  to 
give  away  at  the  door  pieces  of  broken  or 
otherwise  objectionable  food.  Yet  I  am  dis- 
posed to  think  that,  upon  the  whole,  more 
harm  than  good  results  from  this  practice  ; 
for,  to  say  nothing  of  the  temptation  it  offers 
to  the  poor  to  exaggerate  their  own  wants  and 
sufferings,  the  temptation  to  servants  is  no 
trifling  one,  to  be  perpetually  adding  to  the 
charitable  hoard,  what  a  little  ingenuity  or 
care  might  have  converted  into  a  wholesome 
or  palatable  dish.  Besides  which  it  is  impos- 
sible that  any  family  should  be  able  to  furnish 
a  regular  supply  of  such  food,  and  the  disap- 
pointment of  the  really  destitute  must  be  very 
great,  on  those  days  when  they  are  obliged 
to  return  home  to  set  down  to  an  empty 
table,  or  perhaps  to  go  supperless  to  bed.  In 
addition  to  which  objections,  we  may  safely 
add,  that  the  fewer  supplicants  and  hangers- 


ga 


THE  WIVES  OF  ENGLAND. 


about,  to  be  found  at  our  doors,  the  better. 
Those  are  seldom  the  most  needy  who  ask 
assistance  in  this  way,  and  happily  for  our 
benevolence,  there  are  innumerable  channels 
now  open,  through  which  we  may  at  least 
endeavor  to  do  good  with  less  probability  of 
doing  harm. 

In  the  exercise  of  kindness  to  the  poor,  care 
is  often  necessary  to  avoid  falling  into  popu- 
lar mistakes  with  regard  to  the  merit  of  cer- 
tain cases,  which  after  all  frequently  consists 
in  nothing  more  than  a  few  circumstances  of 
interest  attaching  to  them.  The  tide  of  fash- 
ion, when  it  takes  a  charitable  course,  will 
sometimes  pour  a  perfect  flood  of  benefits 
upon  certain  individuals,  to  the  neglect  of 
others  equally  deserving,  and  perhaps  more 
in  need.  But  the  mistress  of  a  family,  whose 
mind  is  well  governed,  will  be  her  own  judge 
in  such  matters,  and  not  allowing  either  in- 
dolence or  self-indulgence  to  stand  in  her 
way,  nor  even  deputing  the  task  to  others,  she 
will,  as  far  as  it  is  possible  to  do  so,  examine 
the  case  for  herselfj  in  order  that  she  may 
not  be  led  away  by  the  partial  statements 
or  highly  colored  representations  of  her 
friends. 

For  all  the  purposes  of  benevolence,  she 
will  also  keep  a  separate  provision,  and  sep- 
arate accounts,  in  order  to  ascertain  at  the 
end  of  the  year,  or  at  any  particular  time, 
what  has  been  the  exact  proportion  of  her 
resources  thus  distributed.  Without  this 
kind  of  record,  we  are  apt  sometimes  to  fancy 
we  have  been  more  generous  than  is  really 
the  case ;  or,  on  the  other  hand,  we  may 
have  been  liberal  beyond  what  was  just,  for 
it  is  not  the  number  of  cases  we  relieve, 
which  has  to  be  considered,  so  much  as  the 
due  proportion  of  our  means  which  is  be- 
stowed upon  charitable  purposes. 

When  the  duty  of  benevolence,  extended" 
through  offices  of  charity,  is  considered  in 
this  light,  as  being  no  duty  in  some  cases, 
and  in  others  one  of  serious  extent  and  re- 
sponsibility, and  thus  bearing,  through  all  the 
intermediate  degrees  between  these  two  ex- 
tremes, exact  reference  to  our  pecuniary 
means,  to  our  situation  in  life,  and  to  the 


number  of  relative  claims  we  have  to  fulfil,  it 
will  easily  be  seen,  that  to  lay  down  any  pre- 
cise rules  for  the  amount  of  money  which 
ought  to  be  expended  in  charity,  would 
be  presuming  upon  an  extent  of  knowledge 
which  no  single  individual  can  possess. 
Besides  which,  there  are  so  many  ways  of 
doing  good,  that  benevolent  feeling  can  often 
find  free  exercise  through  channels  which 
could  scarcely  be  considered  as  belonging  to 
what  is  generally  understood  by  charity. 

But  while  perfectly  aware  that  little  can  be 
done  in  the  way  of  benefiting  our  fellow-crea- 
tures, without  regard  to  their  spiritual  wel- 
fare, I  own  I  am  one  of  those  who  would 
wish  that  the  bodies,  as  well  as  the  souls  of 
the  poor  might  be  cared  for  ;  nor  can  I  think 
they  would  be  less  likely  to  attend  to  instruc- 
tion, for  being  comfortably  clothed  and  suffi- 
ciently fed. 

The  mistress  of  a  family,  when  truly  benev- 
olent, will  not  rest  satisfied  with  merely  giv- 
ing to  the  poor.  She  will  visit  them  in  their 
dwellings,  make  herself  acquainted  with  their 
habits,  characters,  and  circumstances:  and 
while  urging  upon  them  their  religious  duties, 
or  recommending  such  means  of  religious  in- 
struction as  may  be  within  their  reach,  her 
own  experience  in  the  practice  of  econo-  | 
my  will  enable  her  occasionally  to  throw  in 
a  few  useful  hints  on  the  best  method  of 
employing  their  scanty  means,  so  as  that 
evefy  thing  may  be  turned- to  the  most  use- 
ful account  Assistance  of  this  kind,  judi- 
ciously and  kindly  given,  is  often  more  valu- 
able than  money  would  be  without  it ;  and 
those  who  have  but  little  to  give,  may  often, 
by  such  means,  extend  their  influence  to  as 
wide  a  circle  of  usefulness,  as  if  they  had 
thousands  at  their  disposal. 

The  indigent  and  the  suffering  are  often  I 
good  judges  of  what  is  real,  and  what  is  pre-  ' 
tended  sympathy,  or  of  what  is  meant  for  kind- 
ness, without  sympathy  at  all.    Thus  the  most 
sincere  and  fervent  zeal  for  their  spiritual 
improvement  often  fails  to  produce  any  ef- 
fect, simply  from  the  fact  of  little  attention 
being  paid  to  their  temporal  affairs,  or  only 
such  as  they  can  perceive  at  once  to  be  un- 


ORDER,  JUSTICE,  AND  BENEVOLENCE. 


93 


accompanied  by  any  feeling  of  sympathy.  It 
is  a  happy  constitution  of  mind,  therefore, 
which  has  been  given  to  woman,  no  doubt 
for  holy  and  benevolent  purposes,  which  en- 
ables her  with  a  quick  and  sensitive  feeling 
to  enter  into  all  the  minutiae  of  daily  expe- 
rience, without  interruption  to  those  higher 
aims  which  must  occupy  the  supreme  atten- 
tion of  every  Christian  woman  in  her  inter- 
course with  those  who  are  brought  under  her 
influence  or  her  care. 

The  advantages  of  adaptation  are  never 
more  felt  than  in  our  association  with  the 
poor.  By  a  look  or  a  tone,  they  may  be  at- 
tracted or  repelled.  Yet  how  little  do  some 
worthy  people  think  of  this,  when  they  speak 
to  the  poor  in  an  authoritative,  or  disrespect- 
ful manner !  It  is  good  to  bear  about  with  us 
the  remembrance  of  this  fact — that  we  have 
no  more  right  to  be  rude  to  the  poor  than  to 
the  rich.  Even  as  regards  household  ser- 
vants, so  strong  is  the  feeling  of  that  class  of 
persons  in  this  respect,  that  I  believe  mis- 
tresses who  never  deviate  from  a  proper 
manner  of  speaking  themselves,  have  sel- 
dom occasion  to  complain  that  their  servants 
speak  improperly  to  them. 

In  every  mistress  of  a  family,  the  poor  of 
her  immediate  neighborhood  should  feel  that 
they  have  a  friend,  and  where  the  principle 
of  benevolence  has  been  strongly  implanted 
in  the  heart,  such  a  mistress  will  esteem  this 
consideration  too  high  a  privilege  to  allow  any 
regard  for  mere  personal  interest  to  interfere 
with  the  just  discharge  of  so  sacred  a  trust 
Yet  to  befriend  the  poor  substantially,  and 
with  reference  to  their  ultimate  good,  all  who 
have  made  the  experiment  will  allow  to  be  a 
difficult,  as  well  as  a  sacred  duty,  requiring 
much  patience,  forbearance,  and  equanimity 
of  mind,  with  much  confidence  in  a  superin- 
tending Providence,  and  faith  in  Him  who 
chose  his  own  disciples  among  the  poor. 

That  benevolence  which  commences  its 
career  with  high  expectations  of  reward  in 
this  world,  is  sure  to  be  withered  by  disap- 
pointment. Indeed,  there  is  so  much  to  dis- 


courage the  exercise  of  charity  for  the  sake 
of  producing  great  and  conspicuous  results, 
that  most  persons  who  begin  upon  this  prin- 
ciple, end  by  having  their  temper  soured,  their 
confidence  destroyed,  and  their  minds  embit- 
tered by  uncharitable  feelings  towards  their 
fellow-creatures  in  general.  "  The  poor  are 
so  ungrateful,"  is  their  frequent  remark—  a  so 
dishonest,  so  requiring;  there  is  no  pleasure 
in«  doing  any  thing  for  them."  But  how  dif- 
ferent is  the  spirit  which  prompts  these  com- 
plaints, from  that  of  the  Bible,  where  the  poor 
are  mentioned  in  almost  every  page,  and 
where  the  duty  of  kindness  and  consider- 
ation towards  them  is  enforced  upon  the 
simple  ground  of  their  being  poor,  without 
regard  to  any  other  merit  or  demerit  what- 
ever! 

Nor  is  it  to  the  poor  alone,  but  towards  her 
fellow-creatures  in  general,  that  the  woman 
who  undertakes  the  superintendence  of  a  fam- 
ily, should  cultivate  feelings  of  kindness  and 
benevolence.  Men,  engaged  in  the  active 
affairs  of  life,  have  neither  time  nor  oppor- 
tunity for  those  innumerable  little  acts  of  con- 
sideration which  come  within  the  sphere  of 
female  duty,  nor  are  they  by  nature  so  fitted 
as  woman  for  entering  into  the  peculiarities 
of  personal  feeling,  so  as  to  enable  them  to 
sympathize  with  the  suffering  or  the  distressed. 
But  woman,  in  the  happiest  exercise  of  her 
natural  endowments,  enjoys  all  those  requi- 
sites which  are. combined  in  a  real  friend; 
and  as  such  she  ought  always  to  be  regarded 
at  the  head  of  her  domestic  establishment — 
a  friend  with  whom  all  within  the  reach  of 
her  influence  may  feel  that  their  interests  are 
safe — a  friend  in  whose  sympathy  all  may 
share,  and  in  whose  charity  all  may  find  a 
place.  No  one,  however,  can  be  such  a 
friend  as  this,  without  having  cultivated  be- 
nevolent dispositions  towards  the  humai 
race  in  general,  without  feeling  that  all  are 
members  of  one  great  family,  only  differently 
placed  for  a  short  period  of  their  existence, 
and  that  all  are  objects  of  kindness  and  care 
to  the  same  heavenly  Father. 


94 


THE  WIVES  OF  ENGLAND. 


CHAP.  XI. 

TREATMENT  OF  SERVANTS  AND  DEPENDANTS. 

IF,  as  soon  as  a  woman  marries,  she  has 
the  services  of  domestic  assistants  at  her 
command,  she  has  also  devolving  upon  her 
the  responsibility  of  their  comfort  and  their 
general  welfare  ;  and  it  is  a  serious  thought 
that  she  cannot,  by  any  means,  escape  from 
this  responsibility,  whatever  may,  in  other 
respects,  be  the  privileges  and  indulgences  of 
her  situation.  Neither  the  affection  of  her 
husband  nor  the  kindness  of  her  friends  can 
do  any  thing  to  relieve  her  here,  except  only 
so  far  as  their  advice  may  aid  her  judgment ; 
but  as  the  mistress  of  a  house  she  must  be 
the  one  responsible  being  for  the  habits,  and, 
in  a  great  measure,  for  the  circumstances  of 
those  who  are  placed  under  her  care. 

By  the  thoughtless  or  inexperienced  it  may 
be  asked  how  this  should  be,  since  servants 
are  expected  to  care  for  us,  not  we  for  them  ? 
Such,  however,  is  not  the  language  of  a 
Christian  woman,  with  whom  it  will  be  im- 
possible to  forget  that  her  influence  and  ex- 
ample must  unavoidably  give  a  tone  to  the 
character  of  her  whole  household ;  and  if 
there  be  no  solicitude  for  a  bias  to  be  given 
towards  what  is  good,  it  must  unavoidably  be 
towards  what  is  evil.  It  is  morally  impossible 
that  it  should  be  neither  one  way  nor  the 
other,  because  the  very  time  which  a  servant 
spends  beneath  a  master's. roof,  will,  of  ne- 
cessity, be  confirming  old  habits,  if  not  spent 
in  acquiring  new  ones ;  and  thus  while  fondly 
persuading  yourself  that  because  you  are 
doing  nothing  you  cannot  be  doing  harm, 
you  may,  in  reality,  be  guilty  of  the  sin  of 
omission,  which,  in  cases  of  moral  responsi- 
bility, is  often  of  the  most  serious  conse- 
quence. 

It  is  too  frequently  considered  that  servants 
are  a  class  of  persons  merely  subject  to  our 
authority.  Could  we  regard  them  more  as 
placed  under  our  influence,  we  should  take 
a  wider  and  more  enlightened  view  of  our 
own  responsibilities  with  regard  to  them. 
And  after  all,  it  is  influence  rather  than  au- 
thority which  governs  a  household  ;  not  but 


that  every  mistress  has  a  right  to  expect  im- 
plicit obedience,  all  neglect  of  which  is  inju- 
rious to  both  the  parties  concerned,  and  in 
order  to  enforce  which,  her  orders  should  al- 
ways be  given  in  as  clear  and  decided  a  man- 
ner as  possible,  leaving  nothing,  except  where 
it  is  absolutely  necessary,  to  contingencies, 
and  nothing  to  the  choice  of  the  servant  her- 
self, unless  good  reasons  should /be  adduced 
for  a  change  of  purpose  ;  and  then  the  or- 
ders of  the  mistress  should  be  so  worded  as 
to  make  the  purpose  her  own,  and  not  to  al- 
low the  servant  an  opportunity  of  feeling  that 
she  has  overruled  the  plans  of  her  mistress, 
and  in  reality  substituted  her  own. 

Where  the  mistress  is  an  ignorant  one, 
these  points  of  observance  are  very  difficult 
to  maintain,  and  the  habit  of  giving  foolish 
orders,  inconvenient  or  impossible  to  be  exe- 
cuted,' and  of  finding  that  her  servant  is  ca- 
pable of  proposing  what  is  at  once  more  rea- 
sonable and  much  to  be  preferred,  will,  in  all 
probability,  reduce  her  to  a  mere  nonentity 
as  regards  authority  in  her  kitchen,  and  may 
ultimately  be  the  cause  of  her  withdrawing 
from  all  interference  there. 

But  necessary  as  it  is  that  a  mistress  should 
be  implicitly  obeyed,  I  repeat,  that  it  is  not 
by  mere  authority  that  a  household  can  be 
well  governed  ;  because  there  are  innumera- 
ble ways  in  which  servants  can  deceive  with- 
out being  detected,  and  carry  on  their  own 
schemes  while  they  appear  to  be  adopting 
those  of  a  mistress ;  it  is,  therefore,  by  no 
other  means  than  by  the  establishment  of 
mutual  feelings  of  confidence  and  respect, 
that  we  can  hope  to  be  as  faithfully  served 
when  absent,  as  when  inspecting  our  affairs 
in  person ;  and  as  I  have  already  said  that  a 
kitchen  can  never  be  the  proper  element  for 
an  enlightened  woman  to  live  in,  the  greater 
confidence  she  feels  in  a  right  system  being 
carried  on  -there,  the  more  leisure  she  will 
possess  for  other  avocations,  and  the  more 
happiness  she  will  enjoy. 

The  question  then  arises,  how  is  this  right 
understanding,  and  this  perfect  confidence  to 
be  attained !  I  answer,  first,  by  respecting 
the  rights  of  servants,  and  secondly,  by  atjen- 


TREATMENT  OF  SERVANTS,  ETC. 


95 


tion  to  their  interests.  There  are  certain 
duties  which  you  have  a  right  to  require  of 
them,  and  among  them  is  implicit  obedience  ; 
but  there  are  also  many  things  which  even 
though  they  might  greatly  promote  your  con- 
venience, you  have  no  right  to  require.  You 
have  no  right  to  require  a  reduction  of  wages 
below  what  you  first  agreed  to  give,  or  in- 
deed, any  deviation  from  what  was  stipulated 
for  in  that  agreement  And  here  it  may  be 
well  to  observe,  that  all  particular  require- 
ments with  regard  to  dress  and  personal 
habits,  should  be  mentioned  at  that  time,  so 
that  no  disappointments  or  disputes  may  af- 
terwards arise.  Notes  should  also  be  made 
of  such  arrangements,  with  the  time  of  hir- 
ing, and  the  rate  of  wages :  and  when  all 
these  things  in  the  beginning  are  clearly  stated, 
and  fully  understood,  it  may  tend  greatly  to 
the  prevention  of  unpleasant  consequences. 

Whatever  your  own  circumstances  may 
be,  it  is  the  right  of  your  servants  to  have  a 
sufficiency  of  rest,  and  of  wholesome  food  ; 
and  even  in  cases  of  sickness,  or  other  exi- 
gency, you  have  no  right  to  require  that  either 
should  be  given  up  ;  to  request  it  as  a  kind- 
ness, is  the  only  proper  manner  in  which  a 
servant  should  be  brought  to  make  such  con- 
cessions ;  and  we  have  often  a  beautiful  ex- 
ample for  imitation  in  the  perfect  willingness 
with  which,  when  thus  treated,  they  will  de- 
ny themselves  personal  indulgence,  more 
especially  sit  up  night  after  night  with  the 
sick,  without  in  the  intermediate  times  neg- 
lecting their  daily  work. 

It  is  a  delicate  part  of  good  management, 
but  a  very  important  one  in  maintaining  in- 
fluence, to  keep  always  clear  distinctions  on 
these  points,  and  not  even  to  demand  the 
pillow  from  the  servant's  bed,  remembering 
that  all  things  essential  to  their  daily  suste- 
nance and  nightly  rest,  have  been  stipulated 
for  in  your  first  agreement,  and  that  your  ser- 
vants are  consequently  under  no  greater  ob- 
ligation than  other  members  of  your  family, 
to  give  up  what  may  be  classed  under  the 
head  of  bed  or  board.  But  I  must  again  ob- 
serve, that  there  is  a  manner  of  requesting 
these  things  to  be  done,  when  required  on 


any  extraordinary  occasion,  which  seldom 
meets  with  a  refusal,  or  even  with  an  unwil- 
ling compliance. 

A  certain  degree  of  care  of  your  servants' 
health  is  a  species  of  kindness  which  they 
always  feel  gratefully,  and  which  is  no  more 
than  ought  to  be  shown  by  the  mistress  to- 
wards every  member  of  her  household.  In- 
deed it  is  impossible  to  imagine  a  kind-hearted 
woman  neglecting  the  pallid  looks,  and  lan- 
guid movements  of  those  who  are  spending 
their  strength  in  her  service  ;  and  if  she  be 
at  the  same  time  a  lover  of  justice,  she  will 
remember  that  the  bodily  exercise  necessary 
for  carrying  on  household  labor  during  the 
day,  requires  a  greater  interval  of  rest  than 
such  occupations  as  are  generally  carried  on 
in  the  drawing-room.  Instead  of  which,  how 
often  do  we  find  those  on  whom  devolves 
the  burden  of  this  labor,  required  to  rise  two 
or  three  hours  earlier  than  their  mistress, 
and  kept  up  at  night  as  late  as  any  of  the 
household ! — kept  up  perhaps  to  wait  for 
the  return  of  visitors,  when  another  member 
of  the  family,  allowed  to  rest  longer  in  the 
morning,  might  as  well  have  done  so  in  their 
stead — kept  up  on  a  cold  winter's  night  to 
warm  a  bed,  which  the  indulgent  occupant 
might  more  properly  have  warmed  herself, 
unless  she  had  chosen  to  retire  earlier — or 
kept  up  perhaps  until  a  late  hour  for  family 
worship  ;  a  practice  which  requires  no  fur- 
ther comment,  than  to  say,  that  except  on 
very  extraordinary  occasions,  or  where  great 
allowance  is  made  in  the  morning  for  rest, 
no  servants  ought  to  be  expected  to  attend 
family  worship  after  ten  at  night.  ?*  --> 

By  allowing,  and  even  requiring  your  ser- 
vants to  retire  early,  you  have  a  right  to  ex- 
pect their  services  early  in  the  morning, 
without  which,  no  household  can  be  properly 
conducted  ;  for  when  the  day  commences 
with  hurry  and  confusion  in  order  to  over- 
take lost  time,  the  same  state  of  things,  only 
aggravated  by  its  unavoidable  tendency  to 
call  forth  evil  tempers,  impatient  expressions, 
and  angry  retorts,  will  in  all  probability  con- 
tinue until  the  end  of  the,  day.  And  here  we 
see,  as  in  thousands  of  instances  besides,  the 


96 


THE  WIVES  OF  ENGLAND. 


importance  of  making  ourselves  acquainted 
with  what  belongs  to  nature,  and  especially 
that  of  the  human  heart  We  may  compel 
an  outward  observance  of  the  laws  we  lay 
down  for  our  own  families,  but  we  cannot 
compel  such  feelings  to  go  along  with  their 
observance,  as  alone  can  render  it  of  any 
lasting  benefit  either  to  our  servants  or  our- 
selves. Thus  by  rendering  our  service  an 
irksome  one,  or  in  other  words,  not  attending 
to  what  the  constitution  of  human  nature 
requires,  we  effectually  destroy  our  good  influ- 
ence ;  and  if  by  bringing  religion  into  the 
same  hard  service,  we  render  it  an  irksome 
restraint,  the  mischief  we  do  by  this  means 
may  be  as  fearful  in  its  extent,  as  it  is  serious 
and  important  in  its  character.  But  o£  this, 
more  in  another  chapter. 

The  same  care  which  is  exercised  with  re- 
gard to  your  servants'  health,  should  be  ex- 
tended to  their  habits  in  general,  and  even  to 
cases  in  which  their  good  alone  is  concerned  ; 
for  it  is  an  act  of  injustice  to  complain  of  the 
habits  of  this  class  of  persons,  without  doing 
your  part  to  form,  upon  better  principles, 
those  which  come  within  the  sphere  of  your 
influence.  It  is  often  objected  to  this  duty, 
j  that  nothing  can  be  done  for  the  good  of 
young  servants,  so  long  as  they  are  encour- 
aged at  home  in  what  is  foolish  and  wrong. 
The  mothers  then  are  clearly  to  blame ;  and 
certainly  the  mothers  in  many  poor  families 
are  bad  enough.  But  who  made  the  mothers 
what  they  are,  or  helped  to  make  them  so  J 
Unquestionably  the  negligent,  injudicious,  or 
unprincipled  mistresses  under  whose  influ- 
ence their  early  lives  were  spent 

And  have  you  not  then  sufficient  regard 
for  the  welfare  of  future  generations  to  begin 
a  new  system,  by  which  the  errors  of  the  last 
may  be  corrected  1  For  the  little  thoughtless 
girl  just  entering  beneath  your  roof— the 
young  nursery-maid — she  of  whom  nobody 
thinks,  except  to  find  fault  when  she  has 
done  wrong — she  who  perhaps  never  thinks 
herself,  except  to  contrive  how  she  shall  man- 
age to  purchase  a  ribbon  like  that  upon  her 
mistress's  cap — this  very  girl  is  gradually  ex- 
periencing under  your  influence,  and,  nom- 


inally at  least,  under  your  care,  that  great  and 
important  change  of  thought,  feeling,  and 
habit,  which  is  not  improperly  called  the 
formation  of  character;  and  this  girl  will 
consequently  take  away  with  her  whatever 
bias  she  receives  either  from  your  neglect,  or 
your  attentions,  first  into  other  families,  and 
then  into  her  own,  where  she  herself  will 
probably  in  her  turn  have  to  train  up  children 
both  for  this  world  and  the  next 

Will  the  wives  of  England  then  think  me 
very  extravagant  in  my  notions  of  what  is 
due  towards  servants,  when  I  propose  to 
those  in  the  middle  class  of  society,  that  as 
Christian  women  they  should  consider  such 
young  servants  as  placed  peculiarly  under 
their  care ;  because  it  is  only  by  beginning 
early,  that  that  great  and  radical  change  can 
be  effected  in  the  habits  and  character  of  ser- 
vants generally,  which  all  unite  in  consider- 
ing as  so.  urgently  required. 

If  a  mistress  would  really  do  this,  and  I 
cannot  see  how  any  responsible  person  so  cir- 
cumstanced is  justified  in  neglecting  it,  she 
would  consider  that  some  oversight  of  her 
servants'  wardrobe  was  absolutely  necessary ; 
and  as  they  grow  older,  and  come  to  be  in- 
trusted with  money  of  their  own,  the  same 
Oversight  should  extend  to  their  manner  of 
spending  it  It  is  an  excellent  thing  when 
servants  are  allowed  time  for  making  their 
own  clothes,  and  it  is  no  mean  occupation 
for  the  mistress  of  a  house  to  teach  them 
how  to  do  so.  I  speak  on  the  supposition 
that  she  is  acquainted  with  this  art  herself, 
for  I  cannot  imagine  the  education  of  an 
English  woman  in  the  middle  class  of  society 
complete,  without  her  having  become  familiar 
with  the  art  of  making  every  article  of  dress 
she  wears.  Not  that  she  is  under  any  obli- 
gation to  continue  the  practice  of  making  her 
own  clothes;  that  is  a  totally  different  mat- 
ter ;  but  as  this  class  of  women  are  situated, 
and  taking  into  account  all  the  probabilities 
of  change  of  circumstance,  failure  of  health, 
or  failure  of  pecuniary  mean?,  I  am  convinced 
that  no  one  could  have  to  regret,  while  thou- 
sands might  have  to  rejoice,  at  having  ac- 
quired in  early  life  an  art  so  capable  of 


TREATMENT  OF  SERVANTS,  ETC. 


97 


being  made  useful  both  to  themselves  and 
others. 

I  believe  that  one  half  of  the  forlornness, 
discomfort,  and  apparent  destitution  of  the 
poor  around  us,  arises,  not  so  much  from  ab- 
solute want  of  means,  as  from  the  absence 
of  all  knowledge  of  this  kind.  They  are  un- 
fortunately but  too  ready  to  imitate  us  in  our 
love  of  finery,  our  extravagance,  and  self-in- 
dulgence ;  and  it  is  a  serious  question  whether 
they  discover  any  thing  else  in  us  which  they 
can  imitate ;  but  let  them  see  our  economy, 
our  industry,  our  contrivance,  and  our  soli- 
citude to  turn  every  thing  to  the  best  ac- 
count, and  I  believe  they  would  not  be 
slow  to  imitate  these  habits  as  well  as  the 
others. 

The  art  of  mending,  for  instance,  though 
most  important  to  the  poor,  is  one  in  which 
they  are  lamentably  deficient;  and  so  much 
waste,  disorder,  and  slovenliness,  are  the  con- 
sequence of  not  being  able  to  mend  skilfully, 
that  this  department  of  neatness  and  econo- 
my is  one  in  which  all  young  servants  should 
be  carefully  instructed ;  more  especially  as 
the  making-up  of  new  clothes  is  a  much 
easier,  as  well  as  generally  more  agreeable 
task,  than  that  of  mending  old  ones,  so  that 
they  look  respectable  to  the  last. 

By  this  kind  of  oversight  of  her  servants' 
wardrobe,  a  kind-hearted  and  judicious  mis- 
tress may  easily  obtain  some  direction  in  the 
expenditure  of  their  money,  and  in  nothing 
is  assistance  to  the  poorer  classes  more  ne- 
cessary than  in  this.  Servants  generally  are 
pleased  to  have  the  approbation  of  a  beloved 
and  respected  mistress  in  those  cases  over 
which  she  does  not  assume  any  direct  author- 
ity ;  and  they  would  be  equally  mortified  to 
find  they  had  incurred  her  disapprobation  by 
the  purchase  of  what  was  worthless,  or  un- 
befitting their  situation.  By  this  means,  too, 
mistresses  would  generally  be  better  able  than 
they  are,  to  understand  what  is  sufficient, 
and  consequently  what  is  just,  with  regard 
to  wages ;  for  while,  on  the  one  hand,  some 
require  their  servants  always  to  look  respec- 
table without  allowing  them  the  means  to  do 
so,  others  are  induced  by  fashion  or  custom 


to  give  higher  wages  than  are  really  any 
benefit  to  the  receiver. 

But  the  variety  of  instances  are  too  numer- 
ous to  specify,  in  which  the  Christian  care 
and  oversight  of  a  good  mistress  may  be  in- 
valuable  to  a  young  servant.  I  will  mention 
but  one  more,  and  that  of  greater  importance 
than  any  which  have  yet  fallen  under  our 
consideration.  I  mean  the  preservation  of 
young  servants  from  circumstances  of  expo- 
sure or  temptation. 

Those  who  have  never  lived  in  large 
towns,  and  especially  in  London,  would 
scarcely  give  credit  to  the  facts,  were  they 
told  the  number  of  instances  in  which  ser- 
vants are  brought  from  the  country,  and  be- 
ing obliged,  from  illness  or  some  other  cause, 
to  leave  their  employers,  are  allowed  to  be 
cast  upon  the  mercy  of  the  public,  friendless 
and  destitue,  and  too  often  a  prey  to  the 
cruel  deceptions  which  are  practised  upon 
young  females  thus  situated.  Some  of  the 
most  painful  among  the  many  distressing  cir- 
cumstances which  come  under  the  notice  of 
those  Christian  ladies  who  have  the  over- 
sight of  female  penitentiaries,  are  cases  in 
which  country  servants  have  been  brought 
to  town,  and  having  lost  their  health,  or  suf- 
fered from  accident,  have  been  placed  in 
hospitals,  and  left  there  without  regard  to 
their  future  destiny ;  when,  on  coming  out, 
they  have  found  that  all  clue  was  lost  to  their 
former  masters  or  mistresses,  and  that  they 
were  consequently  alone  in  the  streets  of 
London,  without  money,  without  friends,  and 
without  the  knowledge  of  any  respectable 
place  in  which  they  might  find  shelter. 

It  may  be  said  that  these  are  extreme 
cases,  but  it  is  lamentably  true  that  these, 
and  others  of  similar  neglect,  are  not  so 
rare  as  persons  would  suppose  who  are 
unacquainted  with  the  practices  of  our  large 
towns. 

Another  evil  against  which  mistresses 
ought  to  be  especially  on  their  guard,  is 
the  introduction  of  unprincipled  char-wo- 
men, or  other  assistants,  into  their  families. 
In  the  country  it  is  comparatively  easy  to 
ascertain  what  is  the  general  moral  character 


96 


THE  WIVES  OF  ENGLAND. 


of  those  around  us  ;  but  in  large  towns  this 
knowledge  is  more  difficult  to  acquire,  and 
incalculable  mischief  has  often  been  the  con- 
sequence of  associating  young  servants  with 
persons  of  this  description. 

The  practice  of  sending  out  young  female 
servants  late  at  night,  to  bring  home  any 
members  of  the  family  who  may  be  out  visit- 
ing, or  placing  them  in  any  other  manner 
unnecessarily  in  circumstances  of  exposure, 
are  considerations  to  which  we  ought  not  to 
be  indifferent ;  and  the  mistress  who  allows 
her  servant  to  be  thus  circumstanced,  would 
do  well  to  ask  herself  how  she  would  like  a 
young  sister,  or  a  daughter,  to  be  placed  in  a 
similar  situation.  Can  it  be  that  youth  has 
not  as  strong  a  claim  to  our  protection  in  the 
lower  as  in  the  higher  walks  of  life  1  Can  it 
be  that  innocence  is  not  as  precious  to  the 
poor  as  to  the  rich  1  Did  the  case  admit  of 
any  degree  of  comparison,  I  should  say  that 
it  was  more  so ;  for  what  has  a  poor  girl  but 
her  character  to  depend  upon!  Or  when 
once  the  stigma  of  having  deviated  from  the 
strict  line  of  propriety  attaches  to  her  name, 
who  is  there  to  defend  her  from  the  conse- 
quences 1  Her  future  lot  will  in  all  probabil- 
ity be  to  become  the  wife  of  some  poor  and 
hard-working  man,  whose  whole  amount  of 
worldly  wealth  will  be  comprised  in  the  re- 
spectability of  his  humble  home.  Who  then, 
through  indifference  or  neglect,  would  allow 
a  shadow  to  steal  in,  still  less  a  blight  to  fall, 
where,  in  spite  of  poverty,  in  spite  of  trial,  in 
spite  of  all  those  hardships  which  are  the 
inevitable  portion  of  the  man  who  earns 
his  bread  by  the  labor  of  his  hands,  his 
home  might  still  be  an  earthly  paradise  to 
him? 

Young  women  of  a  higher  grade  in  socie- 
ty, or  those  who  are  more  properly  called  la- 
dies, being  all  taught  in  the  great  school  of 
polished  society,  acquire  the  same  habits  of 
decorum,  and  even  of  modesty,  to  a  certain 
extent;  and  the  restrictions  of  eociety render- 
ing it  more  painful  to  deviate  from  such  hab- 
its, than  to  maintain  them  through  life,  we 
come,  very  naturally,  to  look  upon  them 
rather  as  a  matter  of  course  than  as  a  merit 


But  in  the  modesty  of  a  poor  young  girl  there 
is  inexpressible  beauty,  because  we  know  that 
it  must  arise  from  the  right  feelings  of  her 
heart ;  and  none  who  are  capable  of  truly 
estimating  this  charm,  would  for  the  wealth 
of  worlds  be  the  cause  of  its  being  lost 

It  is  a  common  saying  with  servants,  that 
they  do  not  fear  work  if  well  treated ;  and  I 
believe  such  little  acts  of  consideration  as  the 
heart  of  a  kind  mistress  will  naturally  sug- 
gest, may  be  made  to  go  much  further  in 
stimulating  them  to  a  right  performance  of 
their  duty,  than  either  high  wages  or  great 
personal  indulgence.  A  little  consideration 
shown  for  their  wishes,  where  the  matter  is 
one  of  little  moment  to  their  employers,  is  felt 
by  them  as  a  real  kindness,  and  often  abun- 
dantly rewarded  by  their  willingness  and 
alacrity  in  doing  whatever  is  required  of 
them. 

An  instance  was  once  brought  painfully 
under  my  notice,  where  the  mistress  of  a 
house  and  some  of  her  family  were  consult- 
ing about  whether  a  servant  should  be  sent 
to  a  neighboring  town  before,  or  after,  dinner. 
They  themselves  appearing  to  have  no  choice, 
it  was  suggested  by  another  party,  that  the 
servant  would  prefer  going  in  the  afternoon. 
"He  prefer  it,  indeed!"  exclaimed  the  lady 
of  the  house ;  "  then  for  that  reason  he  shall 
go  in  the  morning."  When  it  is  added,  that 
the  lady  was  a  most  kind,  and  in  many  re- 
spects, truly  excellent  character,  this  fact  is 
difficult  to  believe ;  and  I  am  only  induced 
to  state  it  as  a  striking  proof  to  what  an  ex- 
tent benevolent  feeling  may  be  restrained  in 
its  exercise,  by  the  habit  of  thinking  that  ser- 
vants are  merely  passive  instruments  upon 
which  authority  ought  to  be  exercised  ;  and 
that,  consequently,  all  pretension  on  their  part 
to  an  equality  of  feeling  with  ourselves,  as  re- 
gards what  is  agreeable  or  otherwise,  ought 
to  be  put  down  by  the  most  prompt  and  de- 
cided measures. 

After  all,  however,  it  must  be  allowed,  that 
there  are  some  servants,  and  perhaps  not  a 
few,  who  cannot,  by  the  best  and  most  judi- 
cious treatment,  be  moulded  to  our  wishes  ; 
and  with  regard  to  these,  if  the  case  is  a  de- 


TREATMENT  OF  SERVANTS,  ETC. 


99 


cided  one,  that  they  can  neither  do  good  to 
us,  nor  we  to  them,  the  sooner  we  get  rid  of 
them  the  better.  Before  deciding  too  hastily 
to  part  with  a  servant,  we  should,  however, 
call  into  exercise  all  the  charity  we  can,  by 
remembering  how  different  their  education 
and  early  treatment  have  been  from  ours, 
and  if  we  cannot  on  this  ground  forgive  them 
some  faults,  either  they  or  we  must  be  wrong 
indeed. 

Again,  there  may  have  been  faults  on  our 
side  as  well  as  theirs.  We  may  have  been 
too  lax  in  our  discipline,  for  kindness  ceases 
to  be  such  when  it  degenerates  into  negli- 
gence. Thus,  to  permit  servants  to  feel  that 
there  are  in  your  household  departments  of 
duty  which  you  never  superintended,  and 
places  and  things  secure  from  your  inspec- 
tion, is  allowing  them  a  license  which  few 
are  so  conscientious  as- not,  in  some  measure, 
to  abuse.  It  may  happen  too,  that  you  have 
been  expecting  regularity  from  them,  while 
you  have  failed  to  practise  it  yourself;  or, 
that  you  have  been  requiring  neatness,  order, 
and  punctuality,  when  your  own  example, 
on  these  points  of  observance,  has  been  far 
from  corresponding  with  your  precepts  and 
injunctions. 

That  care  should  be  exercised  not  to  part 
too  hastily  with  servants,  is  as  much  for  the 
interest  of  one  party  as  another ;  since  the 
distinction  of  a  bad  name  as  a  mistress,  is 
sure  to  be  felt  in  its  natural  consequence  of 
preventing  good  servants  seeking  employ- 
ment under  such  direction.  It  is  in  the  power 
of  all  mistresses  to  make  it  a  privilege  to 
live  with  them  ;  but  still,  even  this  privilege 
will  occasionally  be  abused.  There  are  cases 
too,  in  which  the  natural  dispositions  of  the 
two  parties  are  not  suited ;  and  there  is  such 
a  thing  as  a  mistress  becoming  afraid'  of  her 
servant — afraid  to  thwart  her  plans,  or  afraid 
to  enforce  others ;  and  where  such  is  the 
feeling,  whatever  may  be  the  excellences  of 
the  servant,  that  she  is  not  in  her  proper 
place  with  such  a  mistress,  is  sufficiently 
evident. 

Instances  of  dishonesty,  or  other  cases  of 
serious  moral  delinquency,  I  have  not  deem- 


ed it  necessary  to  mention,  because  all  must 
be  aware  of  the  importance  of  treating  them 
in  an  equitable  and  summary  manner.  The 
only  thing  to  be  observed  in  relation  to  these 
is,  that  the  evidence  upon  which  we  act 
should  be  clear  and  decisive. 

In  all  cases  of  dissatisfaction,  it  is  good  to 
bear  in  mind  the  familiar  and  true  maxim, 
that  "  good  mistresses  make  good  servants  ;" 
and  that  with  persons  who  are  constantly 
changing,  some  fault  must  rest  with  them- 
selves— some  fault  attributable  either  to  mis- 
management or  neglect — some  fault  arising 
either  from  too  great  indulgence,  or  too  great 
severity,  or  perhaps  from  a  mixture  of  both. 
And  I  am  strongly  disposed  to  think,  that  in- 
dependently of  such  faults,  many  of  the  griev- 
ances we  complain  of  in  our  domestic  affairs, 
and  especially  those  which  arise  out  of  the 
foolish,  perverse,  or  unprincipled  conduct  of 
our  servants,  might  be  obviated  by  more 
careful  attention  being  paid  to  the  formation 
of  their  character  when  young. 

That  a  better  system  is  also  required  with 
regard  to  the  practice  of  giving  characters  to 
servants,  is  universally  allowed ;  yet  few  per- 
sons seem  to  have  the  moral  courage  to  be- 
gin with  a  plan,  which  shall  at  once  be  more 
just  to  the  employers  and  the  employed. 
This  weakness  of  purpose  originates,  no 
doubt,  in  an  amiable  feeling  of  anxiety,  lest, 
by  speaking  of  our  servants  as  we  have 
really  found  them,  we  should  deprive  them 
of  a  future  home.  The  case  unquestionably 
has  its  difficulties,  yet  as  a  moral  obligation, 
it  must  be  allowed,  that  the  sooner  we  begin 
to  act  fairly  and  honestly,  the  better  it  will 
ultimately  be,  both  for  ourselves  and  those 
with  whom  we  are  associated ;  and  there 
can  be  no  doubt,  that  the  confidence  all  ser- 
vants feel  in  being  able  to  obtain  what  is  call- 
ed a  character,  so  long  as  they  have  not  been 
really  dishonest,  insolent,  or  disobedient,  ren- 
ders them  more  careless  than  they  otherwise 
would  be,  of  those  minor  points  of  domestic 
duty,  which,  taken  as  a  whole,  form  an  ag- 
gregate of  considerable  importance  to  those 
who  engage  their  services.  This,  then,  is 
one  of  those  cases,  in  which  the  Wives  of 


100 


THE  WIVES  OF  ENGLAND. 


England  are  called  upon  to  assist  each  other, 
not  only  in  making  a  strong  determination, 
but  in  acting  upon  it,  so  far  as  to  break 
through  a  popular  and  long-established  prac- 
tice, by  speaking  of  servants,  when  asked  for 
their  character,  in  such  terms  as  they  really 
deserve ;  without  reference  to  their  worldly 
interests,  or  indeed  to  any  thing  but  the  sim- 
ple truth.  If  by  such  means  a  few  of  them 
should  be 'longer  than  they  now  are  in  ob- 
taining situations,  a  great  many  would  be 
more  careful  to  fill  their  places  to  the  satis- 
faction of  the  families  by  whom  they  are 
employed ;  and  thus  honesty  would  be  found 
in  the  end,  as  it  always  is,  to  be  the  best 
policy. 

In  addition  to  household  servants,  many 
married  women  have  devolving  upon  them 
the  serious  responsibility  of  caring  for  appren- 
tices, or  other  assistants  in  the  way  of  busi- 
ness ;  and  in  the  discharge  of  these  duties,  it 
is  most  important  for  all  who  are  thus  cir- 
cumstanced to  ask  themselves,  whether  they 
are  acting  upon  the  golden  rule  of  doing  to 
others  what  they  would  that  others  should 
do  to  them,  or  to  those  in  whom  they  are 
most  warmly  interested.  If  they  are,  their 
merit  is  great,  and  there  can  be  no  doubt  but 
their  reward  will  be  so  too ;  for  we  must  all 
allow,  that  it  requires  no  ordinary  share  of 
kind  feeling,  or  of  Christian  principle,  to  do 
all  which  a  high  sense  of  duty  requires  in  this 
respect 

There  are  many  reasons  why  the  task  is 
difficult — almost  too  difficult  for  mere  human 
nature  to  perform ;  and  it  is  not  the  least  of 
these,  that  most  young  men  who  begin  to 
learn  a  business,  enter  as  strangers  into  a 
family  at  an  age  when  they  have  little  to  re- 
commend them  as  companions,  except  to 
their  own  associates,  or  to  a  partial  parent ; 
yet  at  that  precise  time  of  their  lives,  when 
the  formation  of  their  habits  and  character 
requires  the  strictest  care.  It  is  easy  to  ima- 
gine that  few  women  would  prefer  spending 
much  of  their  time  with  youths  of  fifteen,  or 
eighteen  years  of  age,  in  connection  with 
whom  they  have  no  family  tie,  or  strong  con- 
necting interest ;  but  why,  on  the  other  hand, 


the  wife  of  a  man  who  is  engaged  in  busi- 
ness, to  the  successful  pursuit  of  which  she 
owes  all  her  pecuniary  advantages,  should 
hold  herself  above  her  husband's  clerks  or 
apprentices,  I  never  could  distinctly  see; 
more  especially  as  time  was  when  her  own 
husband  was  thus  situated,  and  most  pro- 
bably time  will  be,  when  her  sons  will  be  the 
same. 

Is  it  possible,  then,  that  a  mother  thus 
circumstanced  can  look  with  indifference  to 
the  future,  when  the  happy  boy  who  plays 
beside  her,  the  joy  of  her  own  heart,  and  the 
pride  of  his  father's — the  spirited  handsome 
fellow  who  carries  away  the  prizes  at  his 
school,  and  lords  it  over  his  playmates,  and 
only  softens  into  tenderness  when  he  sees  his 
mother's  tears — is  it  possible  that  she  can 
think  with  indifference  of  the  time  when  he 
shall  be  old  enough  to  go  out  into  a  stran- 
ger's family — nay,  actually  be  bound  there 
for  a  term  of  years,  and  thus  inwrought  as  it 
were  with  the  entire  fabric  of  a  new  order  of 
domestic  arrangements,  yet  notwithstanding 
all  this,  made  to  sit  apart,  and  to  feel  that  he 
is  not  only  an  alien  but  an  absolute  intruder, 
as  regards  the  mistress  of  that  family  and  her 
friends!  Could  the  fond  mother  follow  her 
boy  when  thus  circumstanced  up  to  his  own 
bedroom  in  the  attic,  and  see  how  often,  for 
want  of  a  welcome  at  the  household  hearth, 
he  sits  there  upon  his  box,  and  reads  the 
books  he  brought  from  home,  at  the  risk  of 
being  chidden  for  the  light  he  has  kept  burn- 
ing ; — could  she  see  the  far-off  way  in  which 
he  sits  at  the  family  board,  satisfying  his  hun- 
ger according  to  necessity,  not  choice ; — 
could  she  see  the  manner  in  which,  from  the 
very  overflow  of  the  life  of  his  young  spirit 
he  is  driven  down  and  compelled  to  make 
merry  with  associates  unfitted  to  himself,  at 
least  to  that  self  with  which  he  was  identified 
in  his  father's  home,  but  which  he  has  almost 
ceased  to  remember  now ; — could  she  hear 
when  he  speaks  how  his  voice  is  becoming 
gradually  habituated  to  the  utterance  of  low 
thoughts  and  words  which  never  formed  a 
part  of  the  language  of  his  home ; — but  be- 
yond all  this — could  she  see  his  Sabbaths — 


TREATMENT  OF  SERVANTS,  ETC. 


101 


his  days  of  rest — those  happy  days,  when  the 
members  of  his  father's  family  used  all  to  be 
united  in  equality  of  feeling,  and  solicitous 
only  to  give  precedence  to  each  other, — could 
she  behold  him  walking  the  streets  of  some 
great  town,  and  for  want  of  home-attractions, 
for  want  of  cordiality  and  welcome  at  his 
master's  fireside,  familiarizing  himself  with 
the  sinful  practices  of  others  similarly   cir- 
cumstanced ; — could  the  mother,  beholding 
all  this,  trace  out  its  fearful  and  degrading 
consequences  upon  the  future  destiny  of  her 
boy,  she  would  be  ready  to  exclaim  to  the 
mistress  of  that  household — "Save  my  child !" 
Should  any  such  appeal  be  made,  the  mis- 
tress of  that  family  would  in  all  probability 
reply  with  indignation — "  The   young  men 
employed  in  my  husband's  business  enjoy 
the  very  best  of  food,  they  are  not  required  to 
work  beyond   the  hours   agreed  upon,  and 
their  sleeping-rooms  are   healthy   and  well 
furnished."     And   all  this  may  be   strictly 
true,  yet  the  mother's  heart  may  be  unsatis- 
fied, for  she  knows,  and  we  all  know,  that  it 
is  possible  to  be  well  cared  for  as  regards  the 
body,  and  yet  be  made  to  feel  most  destitute. 
We  all  know  that  there  is  a  kind  of  treat- 
ment which  elevates  the  moral  feelings,  and 
another  which  degrades  them,  rendering  the 
spirit  upon  which  it  operates,  grovelling,  ser- 
vile, mean.     And  if  this  powerful  influence 
should  be  made   to  weigh  upon,  and  bear 
down  the  buoyant  mind  of  youth,  what  must 
we  expect,  after  such  treatment,  will  be  the 
downward  tendency  of  old  age  1 

But  is  it  possible,  we  ask  again,  that  the 
mother  whose  natural  instinct  renders  her  so 
keenly  alive  to  all  these  feelings  as  regards 
her  own  child,  can  be  insensible  to  the  claims 
of  others  ? — can  be  induced  by  her  own  pride 
or  her  own  selfishness  to  trample  under  foot 
the  high  moral  obligation  laid  upon  her,  to 
be  as  a  mother  to  her  own  household,  but 
especially  to  the  young,  remembering  that 
they  will  go  forth  into  the  world  bearing  the 
seal  upon  their  foreheads  of  her  maternal 
care,  or  of  her  most  culpable  neglect  ]  Nor 
is  this  all.  She  must  remember,  too,  that 
these  very  youths  are  to  constitute  in  after 


ife  that  strong  phalanx  of  respectability,  in 
whose  moral  power  are  vested  the  interests 
of  the  people,  and  the  welfare  of  the  state, 
ts  it  right  then — is  it  just — is  it  politic — that 
during  five  or  seven  long  years  of  the  lives 
of  such  men — years  in  which  the  most  last- 
ing impressions  they  ever  will  receive,  are 
made  upon  their  minds — is  it  right,  or  in  any 
way  to  be  reconciled  to  English  women,  that 
for  this  portion  of  their  lives  they  should  be 
subjected  to  a  system  of  moral  discipline, 
calculated,  in  almost  every  way,  to  lower 
them  as  future  citizens  of  the  world  1 

But  it  is  not  always  thus.  There  are  no- 
ble and  beautiful  instances  of  women  who 
absolutely  could  not  live  upon  such  terms ; 
warm-hearted,  patriotic  women,  who  can- 
not sit  down  to  their  own  tables  without  a 
cordial  welcome  for  every  one  entitled  to  a 
place  at  the  same  board — who,  putting  aside 
all  personal  feeling,  can  even  make  friends 
of  such  associates,  remembering  that  to  their 
parents  and  their  country  they  are  in  a  great 
measure  responsible  for  the  high  or  low  posi- 
tion such  men  may  take  in  after  life.  Yes, 
we  are  happy  in  believing  there  are  those 
who  would  willingly  bear  all  the  annoyance 
or  restraint  of  such  society,  were  it  tenfold 
greater  than  it  is,  rather  than  be  the  cause  of 
one  young  man  being  drawn  out  from  home 
to  seek  enjoyment,  or  down  into  a  lower 
grade  of  social  fellowship,  for  a  freedom  and 
a  cordiality  wliich  he  could  not  find  with  her. 
Contemptuously  as  young  men  will  often 
speak  of  the  influence  and  the  habits  of  wo- 
men in  general,  I  believe  there  are  few  who 
may  not  in  the  early  part  of  their  lives,  be 
more  easily  influenced  by  women  than  by 
men — by  judicious  women,  I  mean,  for,  not- 
withstanding the  absurdities  of  which  some 
youths  are  guilty  themselves,  they  appear  to 
be  instinctively  quick-sighted  to  the  absurdi- 
ties of  others,  and  especially  to  those  of  wo- 
man. In  fact,  they  seem  glad  to  lay  hold  of 
any  excuse  for  despising  them,  and,  even 
where  they  feel  the  greatest  respect,  will  sel- 
dom acknowledge  it  openly  or  directly.  But 
for  all  this,  the  cautious  and  well-ordered 
treatment  of  women  tells  upon  their  charac- 


102 


THE   WIVES  OF  ENGLAND. 


ters  in  the  end  ;  ami  by  a  little  good-natured 
falling-in  with  their  humors,  a  little  forbear- 
ance under  the  infliction  of  their  annoyances, 
a  little  good  sense,  and  a  great  deal  of  cheer- 
fulness, an  amiable  woman  will  seldom  fail  to 
obtain,  even  without  the  assumption  of  any 
direct  authority,  an  extensive  influence  over 
the  young  men  with  whom  she  is  associated. 

For  this  reason,  and  because  the  master  of 
a  family  with  whom  it  rests  to  exercise  real 
authority  cannot  so  well  unbend,  and  make 
himself  familiar  with  the  young  people  under 
his  direction,  the  claims  of  this  part  of  the 
community  are  strong  upon  the  wives  of 
England,  who  as  they  value  the  comfcrt  of 
their  own  sons,  and  estimate  with  regard  to 
them  the  advantages  of  a  high  moral  stand- 
ard, can  surely  not  forget  the  interests  of  the 
stranger's  son  committed  to  their  care. 

The  same  observations  apply  with  equal 
force  to  dependants  of  every  description,  ex- 
cepting only  that  those  who  are  not  bound, 
may  be  considered  as  at  liberty  to  find  situa- 
tions more  suited  to  their  ideas  of  comfort 

But,  above  all  others,  the  class  of  destitute 
or  homeless  relatives  are  most  entitled  to  our 
consideration  and  kindness.  Yet  such  is  the 
weakness  of  human  nature  in  cases  of  severe 
or  protracted  trial,  that  the  good  and  the  hap- 
piness of  all  parties  seem  to  require  as  little 
mixing  up  as  possible  in  the  same  household, 
of  rich  and  poor  relations.  When  the  poor 
have  to  be  provided  for  by  more  affluent  rel- 
atives, it  is  better — far  better,  to  do  this  at  a 
distance,  or  at  least  not  associated  as  one 
family  ;  though  such  needful  precaution  has 
nothing  whatever  to  do  with  the  kindness 
which  may  often  be  most  appropriately  ex- 
tended towards  them  as  guests,  or  indeed  as 
members  of  the  same  family  for  a  limited 
period. 

In  all  such  cases,  there  are  difficulties  to 
be  contended  with  on  both  sides,  owing  to 
the  natural  tendency  in  one  party  to  suspect 
or  imagine  slights,  and  in  the  other  to  appre- 
hend or  resist  encroachments.  One  half  of 
these,  however,  I  am  fully  persuaded,  might 
be  obviated  by  a  candid  and  delicate  mode 
of  behavior  on  the  part  of  the  mistress  of  a 


house  who  entertains  such  relatives  as  guests. 
Her  behavior  must  be  delicate  in  the  extreme, 
because  she  has  to  do  with  those  whose  pe- 
culiar situation  renders  them  more  than  com- 
monly susceptible  of  pain :  and  it  must  be 
candid ;  because  in  all  such  cases  the  habit 
of  leaving  tilings  to  be  understood  is  the 
surest  way  to  produce  misunderstandings. 
Still,  the  delicacy  which  would  make  no 
difference  be  felt,  would  fail  in  its  object  to 
do  good ;  because  as  the  world  considers 
there  is  a  vast  difference  between  abundant 
and  slender  pecuniary  means,  there  could  be 
no  kindness  in  persuading  those  who  are  but 
scantily  supplied  in  this  respect,  that  they  are 
to  mix  in  society  upon  the  same  terms  as  the 
rich ;  and  more  especially  after  one  or  more 
generations  have  marked  this  difference  be- 
tween them  and  their  relatives  by  stronger 
characters. 

While  it  is  left  to  all  persons  to  decide  ac- 
cording to  their  own  judgment  to  what  ex- 
tent they  will  cultivate  the  acquaintance  of 
their  poorer  relatives,  the  manner  of  doing 
this  admits  of  no  doubt ;  for  to  receive  them 
as  guests  without  a  welcome,  is  at  once  a 
breach  of  justice  and  of  hospitality.  The 
welcome  then  which  I  would  earnestly  re- 
commend, is  one  which  sets  them  perfectly 
at  ease  as  to  any  fear  of  intrusion,  and  which 
does  away  with  all  idea  that  personally  they 
are  considered  as  inferiors  by  the  mistress  of 
the  house  ;  though  at  the  same  time  her  be- 
havior should  be  such  as  to  assist  them  in 
marking  out  for  their  safety,  in  associating 
with  others,  those  delicate  distinctions,  upon 
the  nice  observance  of  which  so  much  of 
their  comfort  and  respectability  depends.  By 
encouraging  them  to  trust  implicitly  to  her 
candor  in  expressing  her  wishes  respecting 
them,  she  may,  as  the  mistress  of  a  house, 
be  enabled  to  become  a  real  friend  to  a  class 
of  persons  whose  claims  are  perhaps  the 
strongest  of  any  upon  our  sympathy  and 
consideration.  For  let  the  case  be  our  own 
— let  the  lapse  of  time  as  it  passes  over  our 
family  connections  leave  us  alone  to  struggle 
with  a  tide  of  adverse  circumstances  ;  while 
those  who  originally  branched  off  from  the 


SOCIAL  INFLUENCE. 


103 


same  root  are  basking  in  the  sunshine  of 
prosperity — let  us  ask  of  our  own  hearts, 
whether  we  should  not  sometimes  feel  it 
hard  to  be  shut  out  from  their  indulgences, 
and  thrust  down  as  it  were  into  a  lower 
grade  of  society  altogether,  without  any  fault 
of  our  own. 

Nor  is  it  so  much  the  fact  itself,  as  the  ac- 
companiments of  this  fact,  which  we  should 
feel  it  hard  to  bear — the  willingness  of  our 
relations  to  forget  us — their  cold  or  forced 
civilities  when  we  claimed  their  attention, 
compared  with  the  warmth  of  their  emotions 
towards  those  who  were  more  distinguished 
than  ourselves — the  situations  they  might 
point  out  to  us  as  eligible,  but  which  they 
would  almost  die  rather  than  occupy — the 
times  they  would  choose  for  inviting  us, 
when  no  one  else  was  likely  to  appear — the 
multitude  of  things  reserved  for  us  to  do, 
when  our  health  required  that  we  should 
have  perfect  rest — all  which  are  perfectly  nat- 
ural, and  might  easily  occur  without  any  ac- 
companiment of  unkind  feeling.  Yet,  these 
a*e  only  small  items  of  a  vast  sum,  like  grains 
of  dust  in  the  long  wearisome  and  humilia- 
ting path,  which  the  poor  relation  must  tread 
in  associating  with  the  rich. 

In  all  such  circumstances,  how  much  may 
the  facts  themselves  be  ameliorated  to  the 
sufferer  by  the  kind  and  cordial  treatment  of 
the  mistress  of  a  family,  and  especially  by 
one  whose  high  sense  of  justice  and  generos- 
ity admits  of  no  half  welcomes  beneath  her 
roof!  Such  a  mistress  will  consider  the  poor 
relative  as  peculiarly  under  her  protection,  to 
guard  from  slights,  to  bring  forward  as  oc- 
casion may  invite,  to  keep  back  as  circum- 
stances may  require,  and  to  render  comforta- 
ble and  at  ease  whatever  may  occur.  And 
if  in  the  contemplation  of  this  duty,  in  addi- 
tion to  those  already  dwelt  upon  in  this  chap- 
ter, the  English  wife  should  fear  that  her 
time  will  be  so  occupied  in  thinking  of  others, 
as  to  leave  none  for  thinking  of  herself,  she 
must  remember,  that  by  these  means  she 
will  gather  around  her  a  strong  phalanx  of 
friends,  whose  love  and  gratitude  will  leave 
her  little  to  wish  for,  which  it  is  in  their  power 


to  supply  ;  and  beyond  this,  she  will  find  that 
by  the  same  means  she  has  been  put  in  pos- 
session of  one  of  the  great  secrets  of  human 
happiness — that  of  making  others  happy. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

SOCIAL   INFLUENCE. 

VISITING,  and  receiving  visits,  being  re- 
garded by  some  married  women  as  among 
the  most  important  avocations  of  life,  it  may 
possibly  to  such  individuals  imply  an  igno- 
rance of  the  claims  of  society,  when  I  ven- 
ture to  hint  at  the  probability  of  this  being 
one  of  the  peculiar  temptations  against 
which  women  in  general  would  do  wisely  to 
be  on  their  guard,  especially  against  acquir- 
ing a  habit  of  visiting,  as  a  means  of  escape 
from  the  dullness  and  monotony  of  their  own 
firesides. 

It  needs  but  little  acquaintance  with  do- 
mestic duty,  to  know  that  there  must  be 
something  wrong  in  the  home  of  that  woman 
who  is  always  leaving  it ;  although,  on  the 
other  hand,  few  persons  would  recommend 
exclusive  confinement  to  the  same  narrow 
sphere  of  thought  and  action,  in  which  we 
exist  at  home.  It  is  good  to  go  out  into  so- 
ciety sometimes,  in  order  that  we  may  return 
with  the  greater  relish ;  but  a  still  more  ex- 
tensive amount  of  good  is  derived  from  what 
we  may  learn  in  mixed  society,  and  gome- 
times  even  from  the  humblest  individuals  we 
meet  with  there. 

It  must,  however,  depend  much  upon  our- 
selves, whether  we  go  out  prepared  to  make 
fishing  a  wholesome  refreshment  to  the  mind, 
or  a  means  of  collecting  and  disseminating 
low  ideas  with  regard  to  our  own  affairs,  and 
those  of  our  neighbors.  When  a  married 
woman  goes  out  intent  upon  reckoning  the 
cost  of  the  entertainment  she  partakes  of, 
upon  comparing  her  neighbor's  furniture  with 
her  own,  but  especially  upon  depreciating 
the  excellence  of  all  which  falls  under  her 
notice,  it  may  safely  be  said  that  she  would 


104 


THE  WIVES  OF  ENGLAND. 


have  been  better  at  home ;  but  when  she  goes 
out  with  a  desire  to  extend  her  kindly  feel- 
ings towards  her  fellow-creatures  in  general, 
to  learn  from  others,  and  to  impart  knowledge 
in  return  ;  or,  in  other  words,  to  do  and  re- 
ceive good  in  any  way  that  may  open,  she 
will  seldom  have  the  mortification  of  return- 
ing home  weary  and  dispirited,  or  wishing 
she  had  never  gone. 

But  .pleasant  as  this  kind  of  refreshment 
may  occasionally  be,  and  necessary  as  it  is 
sometimes  to  mix  with  others  in  order  to 
have  our  views  enlarged,  and  our  prejudices 
rubbed  off,  the  woman  who  makes  it  the  chief 
business  of  her  life  to  visit  and  receive  com- 
pany, will  have  committed  a  lamentable  mis- 
take by  getting  married ;  for  this  business 
might  unquestionably  have  been  carried  on 
in  her  single  state  with  as  much  enjoyment 
to  herself,  and  with  far  less  injury  to  the  hap- 
piness of  others.  Whatever  is  done  by  a 
married  woman  in  the  way  of  duty,  must 
have  reference  to  others,  and  more  especially 
to  those  with  whom  she  is  most  intimately 
connected ;  how  then  can  it  be  promoting 
their  interests,  or  making  their  welfare  the 
chief  object  of  desire,  for  her  to  be  bestowing 
her  time,  her  intelligence — nay,  all  that  is 
pleasing  in  her  manners,  and  interesting  in 
her  character,  .upon  comparative  strangers  ; 
while  her  lassitude,  weariness,  and  exhaus- 
tion, the  natural  effects  of  too  much  excite- 
ment, are  brought  home  to  her  own  family, 
and  unsparingly  indulged  before  them. 

There  are  probably  few  English  wives  who 
would  really  wish  to  enter  at  once  upon  so 
unnatural  a  way  of  living ;  but  there  are  un- 
fortunately too  many,  who  from  want  of  firm- 
ness to  resist  temptation,  as  well  as  prudence 
and  discernment  to  foresee  what  consequen- 
ces must  inevitably  follow  certain  acts,  are 
drawn  into  that  vortex  of  dissipation  appa- 
rently against  their  will,  and,  if  one  could  re- 
ally believe  their  protestations,  still  more 
decidedly  against  their  inclinations. 

There  is  no  more  curious  phenomenon, 
presented  by  human  life,  than  that  of  innu- 
merable multitudes  of  persons  doing  every 
day,  towards  each  other,  with  every  demon- 


stration of  delight,  what  one  half  at  least  of 
the  same  individuals  declare  themselves  to 
be  doing  with  the  utmost  unwillingness,  and 
even  with  dislike.  In  nothing  is  this  more 
striking  than  in  the  ceremony  of  making 
morning  calls.  The  devices  which  are  prac- 
tised to  escape  from  callers,  on  the  one  hand, 
and  to  call  upon  persons  who  are  not  at 
home,  on  the  other,  might  put  to  shame  the 
warmest  advocate  for  keeping  up  these  forms 
of  polished  life.  For  let  the  whole  nation,  as 
with  one  stout  heart,  determine  to  speak  the 
truth,  and  say  exactly  what  degree  of  willing- 
ness is  really  felt  to  go  out  and  make  these 
calls,  or  to  stay  at  home  and  receive  them, 
and  let  the  willingness  thus  avowed,  be  made 
the  rule  of  their  future  conduct,  what  an  im- 
mense amount  of  precious  time  would  thus 
be  rescued  from  worse  than  waste ! 

Nor  is  it  the  absolute  calls  themselves, 
which  constitute  the  whole  objection  to  the 
practice  as  it  is  now  carried  on,  for  every 
mistress  of  a  family  addicted  to  this  practice, 
knows  that  there  are  two  or  three  good 
hours — nay,  actually  the  very  best  of  every 
day,  which  she  can  never  call  her  own,  and 
which  she  consequently  makes  no  attempt  to 
spend  in  any  rational  or  useful  manner.  If 
any  thing  within  the  sphere  of  her  duties  has 
really  to  be  done,  it  must  be  hurried  through 
between,  perhaps,  a  late  breakfast,  and  the 
arrival  of  those  few  early  callers,  who  come 
on  business,  or  who  really  wish  to  find  the 
lady  of  the  house  at  home.  When  these  are 
gone,  the  first  part  of  the  farce  commences, 
and  if  the  after  scenes  could  be  made  to  vary 
so  as  to  develop  what  was  interesting  or 
new,  there  would  perhaps  be  less  objection 
to  the  whole.  But,  unfortunately,  having  gone 
through  one  set  of  observations,  one  series  of 
little  surprises  at  the  intelligence  of  the  day, 
one  succession  of  animated  smiles,  and  ex- 
pressions of  profound  interest,  no  sooner  is 
another  guest  announced,  than  the  lady  of 
the  house  has  to  be  just  as  much  astonished 
at  the  news,  and  just  as  much  startled  at 
each  item  of  intelligence,  as  if  she  had  never 
heard  it  before — just  as  much  pleased  to  re- 
ceive tiie  twentieth  caller  as  the  first,  and  al- 


SOCIAL  INFLUENCE. 


105 


though  in  all  probability  no  single  truth  has 
been  told  her  with  which  she  was  not  all  the 
while  acquainted,  no  new  idea  developed, 
and  no  feeling,  except  weariness,  excited,  she 
has  to  remain  until  the  last  as  fascinating, 
vivacious,  and  apparently  delighted,  as  she 
was  at  first. 

Now  if  this  is  not  hard  labor,  I  am  igno- 
rant what  labor  is.  If  this  is  not  waste  of 
time,  I  am  ignorant  what  is  its  use.  If  this 
is  not  a  weariness  and  degradation  to  the 
spirit,  I  am  ignorant  on  that  point  too.  Al- 
lowing, however,  that  calks  are  necessary,  a 
fact  I  do  not  pretend  to  dispute,  allowing  also 
that  some  particular  portion  of  each  day 
should  be  appropriated  to  that  purpose,  what 
harm,  I  would  ask,  would  result  to  society  in 
general,  from  having  that  time  compressed 
into  the  space  of  one  hour  each  day.  It  is 
true  that  by  this  means  many  callers  would 
probably  have  to  be  introduced  at  the  same 
time,  but  here  would  be  the  great  advantage, 
that  the  same  common-place  remarks  would 
do  for  all  at  once,  the  same  little  starts  of  as- 
tonishment, the  same  expression  of  interest 
lighting  up  the  face,  and  beyond  this,  the 
same  delighted  welcome  for  the  many,  em- 
bodied in  one,  might  have  a  better  chance  of 
being  really  cordial  and  sincere.  In  addition 
to  these  advantages,  every  married  woman 
should  have  the  privilege  of  fixing  her  own 
hour  as  a  generally  understood  thing,  so  that 
her  household  arrangements  might  be  made 
accordingly  ;  and  time  comparatively  secure 
would  thus  be  left  for  pursuing  any  more  im- 
portant avocations  without  fear  of  interrup-' 
tion. 

I  now  appeal  to  the  wives  of  England, 
whether  the  carrying  out  of  such  a  plan 
would  not  be  felt  as  a  general  relief;  more 
especially  since  it  need  only  be  adopted  by 
those  who  consider  time  too  precious  a  gift 
to  be  spent  in  a  sort  of  trifling  which  seems 
neither  to  do  good,  nor  to  give  satisfaction  ; 
while  all  who  prefer  the  present  system, 
would  enjoy  the  gratification  of  spending 
their  whole  mornings  either  in  making  or 
receiving  calls.  The  only  difference  to  them 
would  be,  that  they  could  no  longer  with  any 


justice  complain  of  the  system  as  irksome  or 
annoying. 

In  such  observations  I  would  be  under- 
stood to  refer  to  those  calls  of  cerembny, 
habit,  or  fancied  necessity,  which  are  univer- 
sally complained  of  behind  the  scenes.  Visits 
of  friendship  are  of  a  totally  different  order, 
and  might  be  arranged  for  accordingly.  But 
whatever  plans  may  be  proposed,  the  great 
evil  to  be  avoided  is,  a  universal  determina- 
tion to  appear  pleased  with  what  is  as  uni- 
versally complained  of  as  a  waste  of  time, 
and  a  tax  upon  patience  and  sincerity ;  for 
that  can  never  be  a  right  state  of  things, 
where  a  general  grievance  is  borne  with 
under  the  pretence  of  its  being  a  pleasure. 
There  #re  many  grievances  which  must  be 
borne  with,  and  which  it  is  consequently  de- 
sirable to  make  the  best  of;  and  there  are 
others  which  fall  heavily  upon  individuals, 
and  yet  conduce  to  the  general  good  ;  but 
that  a  burden  felt  by  all,  and  sincerely  de- 
plored by  the  majority  of  those  who  bear  it, 
should  come  not  only  to  be  submitted  to,  but 
apparently  rejoiced  in,  is  a  phenomenon 
which  exhibits  so  striking  an  instance  of  the 
self-mastery  of  woman,  that  one  cannot  suf- 
ficiently regret  this  exercise  of  her  magna- 
nimity not  being  devoted  to  a  nobler  cause. 

The  art  of  receiving  guests  agreeably,  ar- 
ranging them  judiciously,  and  treating  them 
so  that  every  one  shall  feel  perfectly  at  ease, 
is  of  more  importance  to  the  mistress  of  a 
house,  than  the  display  of  her  richest  jewels, 
or  her  most  studied  accomplishments.  In- 
deed, there  is  always  this  fact  to  be  borne  in 
mind  with  regard  to  society  in  general,  that 
nothing  which  is  merely  an  embellishment  to 
ourselves,  can,  as  regards  its  real  value,  bear 
the  slightest  proportion  to  that  which  affords 
gratification  to  others.  The  mistress  of  a 
house  would  do  little  for  the  enjoyment  of 
her  guests  by  being  the  most  splendidly 
dressed,  or  even  the  most  striking  and  dis- 
tinguished person  in  her  own  drawing-room. 
The  probability  is  that  half  of  them  would  go 
away  secretly,  if  not  openly,  affronted.  Her 
proper  duty  is  to  allow  them  an  opportunity 
of  shining,  if  they  can  ;  and  in  pursuance  of 


106 


THE  WIVES  OF  ENGLAND. 


this  subject,  she  will  endeavor  to  make  way 
for  the  distinguished,  as  well  as  to  bring  for- 
ward the  retiring.  But  more  especially  it  is 
her  part  to  be  unobtrusively  watchful  of  in- 
dividual comfort,  attentive  to  every  wish, 
moving  about  from  one  to  another  without 
bustle  or  officiousness,  and  above  all  things 
taking  care  thatJhe  most  insignificant  are 
not  neglected.  She  must  do  all  this  too  with 
a  perfect  knowledge  of  what  is  in  human  na- 
ture, so  as  not  to  offend  while  endeavoring 
to  please ;  and  with  a  perfect  adaptation  of 
herself  to  the  different  characters  of  her 
guests,  whose  enjoyment  for  the  evening 
must  be  in  a  great  measure  at  her  disposal. 
Thus  the  mistress  of  a  house  may  attain  the 
desirable  object  of  having  her  visitors  all 
pleased  and  satisfied,  without  any  of  them 
being  aware  how  much  of  their  gratificatign 
they  owe  to  her ;  for  I  am  supposing  her  one 
of  those  unselfish  women,  who,  when  they  go 
into  company,  are  intent  only  upon  the  hap- 
piness of  those  around  them,  and  who  conse- 
quently escape  the  disappointment  of  having 
failed  in  their  own  persons  to  be  either  courted 
or  admired. 

But  there  is  a  far  different  manner  of  visit- 
ing and  receiving  visits  from  this — and  I  had 
almost  said,  would  that  there  were  no  other 
with  which  we  had  any  thing  to  do  !  I  mean 
where  one  or  more  friends — real  friends,  are 
invited  by  the  mistress  of  a  house  to  be  for  a 
short  time  the  companions  of  her  fireside  en- 
joyments, and,  as  members  of  the  same  fam- 
ily, to  partake  in  whatever  may  constitute  its 
amusements  or  its  privileges.  Here  then  we 
find  an  appropriate  and  ample  field  for  the  full 
development  of  those  qualifications,  whether 
natural  or  acquired,  which  are  combined  in 
an  agreeable  companion  ;  for  here  are  happi- 
ly united,  freedom  for  the  exercise  of  truth, 
time  for  narrative,  opportunity  for  confidence, 
resource  for  intellect,  occasion  for  pleasantry, 
recollections  shared  together,  hopes  mutually 
anticipated,  and  indeed  any  thing  which  an 
affectionate  heart,  and  an  enlightened  under- 
standing, can  require  for  enjoyment 

What  a  luxury  too  it  is  for  a  married 
woman  to  feel  such  perfect  identity  with  her 


husband  in  all  he  is,  and  in  all  he  possesses, 
that  her  home,  her  books,  her  garden,  seem 
to  be  her  very  own  to  place  at  the  disposal 
of  her  friend ;  but  greater  than  all,  is  the 
luxury  of  gathering  into  her  bosom  that  ful- 
ness of  delight,  derived  from  ten  thousand 
sources,  yet  all  embodied  in  the  simple  feel- 
ing, that  she  has  a  home  to  offer.  There  is 
nothing  in  the  joy  of  girlhood  equal  to  this ; 
and  say  what  people  will  about  marriage 
being  the  grave  of  friendship,  I  cannot  think 
the  wife  is  the  person  most  to  blame  where  it 
is  so.  Perhaps  there  is  no  blame  at  all,  for  I 
should  rather  think  the  falling  off  of  female 
friends  might,  in  a  great  measure,  be  attrib- 
uted to  a  natural  shrinking,  on  the  side  of  the 
unmarried  party,  from  admitting,  as  she  sup- 
poses he  must  be,  a  man,  and  perhaps  a 
stranger,  into  her  confidence.  There  are, 
however,  so  very  few  men  who  care  any 
thing  at  all  about  such  confidence,  who  feel 
any  curiosity  to  know  what  female  friendship 
is  composed  of,  'or  who  even  listen  when  its 
details  are  laid  before  them,  that  such  an  ob- 
jection need  scarcely  be  allowed  to  interfere 
with  the  freedom  of  intercourse,  which  con- 
stitutes one  of  the  great  privileges  of  friend- 
ship, and  without  which  it  must  be  little  bet- 
ter than  a  name. 

Beyond  this,  too,  there  may  be  a  little  fault 
on  the  part  of  the  unmarried  friend,  in  at- 
taching ideas  of  what  is  interesting,  exclu- 
sively to  those  unfamiliar  scenes,  and  images 
of  impossible  perfection,  which  occupy  the 
mind  of  the  romantic,  or  the  highly  imagina- 
tive, to  the  exclusion  of  what  is  real,  practi- 
cal, and  true.  Thus  the  wife  who  really 
does  her  duty,  is  not  unfrequently  condemned 
by  her  female  friends,  as  being  a  common- 
place, and  perhaps  a  vulgar,  or  degenerate 
being.  But  could  they  really  know  what 
deep  and  thrilling  interests  are  to  her  in- 
volved in  this  her  duty,  what  high  and  burn- 
ing zeal — what  quenchless  ardor — what  en- 
thusiasm, what  feeling,  are  expended  upon 
the  avocations  of  each  day,  marked  as  they 
must  be,  by  the  ebb  and  flow  of  affection's 
ceaseless  tide  ;  could  they  see  all  thi?,  how 
would  they  start  astonished  at  their  own  mis- 


SOCIAL  INFLUENCE. 


107 


take,  in  having  supposed  that  the  mere  ma- 
terial elements  upon  which  the  duties  of  a 
wife  were  exercised,  were  in  themselves 
what  constituted  the  reality  of  all  the  interest 
which  she  had  in  life.  No ;  beyond  these 
visible  signs  which  tell  of  the  observance  or 
neglect  of  duty,  she  has  a  life — a  soul — a 
spiritual  existence,  which  comprises  every 
thing  between  the  wide  extremes  of  happi- 
ness and  wo ;  and  if  her  early  associates 
will  not  believe  it,  if  they  will  withdraw  them- 
selves, and  think,  and  say,  that  she  is 
changed,  it  is  because  she  regards  all  the  in- 
tense and  profound  realities  of  the  life  she 
now  leads,  as  too  sacred  to  be  unveiled  even 
before  the  eye  of  friendship. 

But  she  is  not  changed :  a  warm,  true- 
hearted  woman  cannot  change  to  those  she 
has  loved  in  early  life,  simply  because  her 
name,  her  home,  and  the  occupations  which 
fill  up  her  time,  are  not  the  same.  Affection 
in  such  a  heart  can  never  die ;  where  it  has 
once  fixed,  it  will  retain  its  hold  ;  and  if  by 
force  it  should  be  shaken  off,  it  will  be  like 
wrenching  away  a  portion  of  the  heart  itself. 
If  new  ties  are  formed,  it  does  not  follow 
that  the  old  ones  shall  be  broken.  They 
rather  grow  into  the  soul  from  having  been 
interwoven  with  its  earliest  affections,  and 
if  they  are  less  observable  in  after  life,  it  is 
only  because  they  lie  the  deepest,  and  are 
consequently  the  most  concealed. 

But  to  return  to  the  subject  of  duty ;  in 
the  act  of  entertaining  her  familiar  friends, 

j  and  particularly  those  who  are  younger  than 
herself,  the  married  woman  may  possibly  sup- 
pose that  she  enjoys  only  a  pleasant  'recrea- 
tion, by  which  the  more  serious  business  of 
life  may  be  diversified  with  social  amusement. 
But  however  much  this  might  have  been  the 
case  in  her  single  state,  it  is  so  no  longer ;  for 
as  the  mistress  of  a  house,  and  the  head  of  a 
family,  she  holds  a  relation  to  her  young 
friends  which  is  necessarily  invested  with  a 
degree  of  authority,  and  for  the  use  of  this 
authority  she  is  as  a  Christian  woman  ac- 
countable. Even  if  no  attempt  is  made  to 
use  her  influence,  so  as  to  give  to  the  minds 
around  her  a  bias  either  one  way  or  another, 

L " 


some  bias  will  necessarily  be  given  by  the 
general  character  of  her  establishment,  and 
the  tone  of  feeling  by  which  her  domestic  and 
social  affairs  are  regulated.  Besides  which, 
her  young  friends  will  naturally  look  to  her 
to  see  what  plans  she  wishes  to  adopt,  and 
what  principles  it  is  her  object  to  carry  out, 
and  their  conduct  will  be  regulated  accord- 
ingly ;  for  whatever  the  degree  of  familiarity 
may  be  which  exists  between  them,  the  rules 
which  she  has  adopted  for  the  government 
of  her  household,  they  will  feel  it  an  obliga- 
tion strictly  to  observe. 

The  mistress  of  a  house  too,  will  have  an 
influence  beyond  this,  and  one  which  is  rare- 
ly enjoyed  through  any  other  medium  of 
communication ;  for  if  she  be  one  who  has 
cultivated  and  embellished  her  own  mind, 
storing  up  for  the  benefit  of  others  all  those 
means  of  being  agreeable  which  no  woman 
ought  to  neglect,  she  will  be  the  delight  of 
her  young  friends  as  a  fireside  companion, 
and  as  such  will  share  in  all  their  moments 
of  unrestrained  vivacity,  and  unlimited  free- 
dom. 

The  authority  of  teachers,  and  unfortu- 
nately sometimes  that  of  parents  too,  extends 
only  to  those  hours  of  discipline  which  are 
spent  immediately  under  their  care.  Could 
any  system  of  scholastic  instruction  be  made 
to  regulate  without  spoiling  the  sports  of  chil- 
dren, or  could  any  means  of  influence  be 
made  to  operate  upon  their  play,  what  an 
amount  of  additional  good  might  be  effected 
in  the  formation  of  individual  character  !  For 
how  often  is  it  found  that  the  child  who  is 
taught,  questioned,  and  examined  by  his  mas- 
ters, who  answers  freely  and  fluently  on  the 
points  referred  to,  and  who  is  ready  and  prompt 
as  if  his  whole  mind  was  there,  is  in  reality  but 
an  actor  performing  his  part  in  that  august 
presence,  from  which,  the  moment  he  is  dis- 
missed, his  real  character  bursts  forth  in  the 
play-ground,  to  be  developed  in  an  entire  be- 
ing as  opposite  to  that  which  stood  before  the 
desk,  as  if  they  held  no  relation  to  each  other ! 
How  often  too,  do  we  find  that  persons  who 
appear  staid  and  demure  on  serious  occasions, 
are  most  objectionable  companions  in  their 


106 


THE  WIVES  OF  ENGLAND. 


mirth ;  while,  on  the  other  hand,  those  whose 
mirth  is  innocent  and  pure,  and  guiltles  sof 
all  taint  from  selfish  or  malignant  feeling, 
may  safely  be  trusted  when  they  are  in  earn- 
est 

But  the  mistress  of  a  family  in  the  midst  of 
her  young  friends  enjoys  the  high  privilege  of 
giving  a  right  tone  to  their  enjoyments,  and 
chastening  the  spirit  of  their  mirth.  That  is, 
if  she  has  so  cultivated  her  own  understand- 
ing as  to  know  what  belongs  to  nature,  and 
to  be  able  to  adapt  herself  to  it ;  for  without 
this  power,  she  must  ever  be  a  stranger  to  the 
inner  and  more  potent  workings  of  the  human 
heart  But  if  she  has  studied  those  accom- 
plishments which  are  particularly  attractive 
to  youth,  and  those  more  important  qualifi- 
cations of  mind  and  intellect  which  give  su- 
periority as  well  as  interest  wherever  they  are 
found,  she  will  be  able  to  render  the  moments 
spent  beneath  her  roof  the  most  privileged 
perhaps  of  a  whole  lifetime — moments  in 
which  good  impressions  were  rendered  in- 
delible as  being  accompanied  by  the  most  de- 
lightful associations — moments  retained  with- 
in the  richest  treasury  of  memory,  to  be  made 
the  pattern  of  the  choicest  intercourse,  and 
the  highest  intellectual  communion  through 
other  chains  of  association,  extending  on- 
wards from  family  to  family,  and  from  heart 
to  heart,  into  a  never-ending  future. 

We  see  here  the  consequences  which  I 
have  perhaps  sufficiently  dwelt  upon,  of  hav- 
ing cultivated  the  art  of  being  agreeable,  not 
to  shine  in  general  society,  as  is  too  frequent- 
ly the  case ;  not  to  establish  any  personal 
claim  to  admiration,  merely  to  render  striking 
and  brilliant  the  intellectual  companionship  of 
a  single  hour,  but  to  make  the  fireside  circle 
a  centre  of  attraction  to  which  the  young  may 
love  to  resort ;  to  render  home  the  chosen 
spot  of  earth,  where  all  who  are  admitted 
within  its  social  fellowship  may  delight  to 
dwell,  where  hopes  and  joys  may  be  shar- 
ed together,  and  where  all  the  thoughts  most 
cherished  and  enjoyed,  are  such  as  tend  to- 
wards a  happier  and  holier  state  of  exist- 
ence. 

Without  having  studied  the  cultivation  of 


the  mind,  or  the  embellishment  of  the  char- 
acter in  general,  how  can  the  mistress  of  a 
family  throw  around  the  scenes  of  home- 
enjoyments  this  intellectual  and  spiritual 
charm]  How  can  she  keep  away  the  cloud 
of  dulness,  the  monotony  of  common-place, 
the  shadow  of  discontent  of  which  young 
persons  so  often  complain  when  visiting  their 
married  friends  1  and  how,  when  her  inter- 
course with  them  is  marked  by  no  lively  or 
impressive  character,  can  she  expect  that 
her  influence  over  them  will  extend  to  what 
is  lasting  or  good  1  It  is  impossible ;  because 
it  is  not  in  the  nature  of  the  human  heart  to 
be  thus  influenced,  without  being  thus  im- 
pressed. 

To  the  married  woman,  then,  it  is  a  serious 
thing  to  have  lost  by  indolence  or  neglect, 
those  golden  opportunities  of  being  useful  to 
society,  which  her  position  naturally  places 
within  her  reach.  For  it  is  not  so  much  our 
private  precepts  which  have  weight,  and  per- 
haps still  less  our  public  ones,  so  much  as  the 
influence  of  individual  character  upon  a  sur- 
rounding circle,  and  through  that  circle  upon 
the  world  at  large. 

The  English  wife  should,  therefore,  regard 
her  position  as  a  central  one,  and  remember 
that  from  her,  as  the  head  of  a  family,  and  the 
mistress  of  a  household,  branch  off  in  every 
direction  trains  of  thought,  and  tones  of  feel- 
ing, operating  upon  those  more  immediately 
around  her,  but  by  no  means  ceasing  there  ; 
for  each  of  her  domestics,  each  of  her  rela- 
tives, and  each  of  her  familiar  friends,  will  in 
their  turn  become  the  centre  of  another  circle, 
from  which  will  radiate  good  or  evil  influ- 
ence, extending  onwards,  in  the  same  man- 
ner, to  the  end  of  all  things — to  the  disrup- 
tion of  all  earthly  ties,  and  the  union  of  the 
great  family  of  heaven,  where  sweet  and 
harmonious  notes  of  her  own  teaching  may 
possibly  be  numbered  with  the  songs  of  the 
blessed  forever  and  forever. 

Is  it  then  a  subject  merely  to  be  glanced 
over  with  a  careless  wish  that  we  could  be 
useful  to  our  fellow-creatures  1 — that  we 
could  leave  on  the  minds  of  those  who  will 
remember  us  when  we  are  dead,  some  last- 


SOCIAL  INFLUENCE. 


109 


ing  impress  worthy  of  their  high  destiny  and 
ours  1  All  may  do  this.  Of  that  we  are 
convinced.  But  are  we  equally  or  suffi- 
ciently convinced  that  some  impress  will, 
and  must  be  left,  whether  we  have  desired  it 
or  not  1  And  what  if  it  should  be  such  as  to 
mark  them  out  for  wrath  in  the  great  day  of 
wrath  !  And  if  that  too  should  have  spread, 
as  the  other  might  have  done,  on — on — from 
one  circle  and  one  generation  to  another — 
from  one  family,  one  community,  one  people, 
one  country,  widening  on  every  hand  until 
the  world  itself  should  suffer  from  the  uni- 
versal taint ! 

The  carrying  out  of  such  a  thought  to  its 
full  extent  is  too  tremendous,  and  yet  we 
know  of  no  natural  limits  by  which  influence 
either  good  or  evil  can  be  confined  or  ar- 
rested in  its  progress  towards  eternity.  We 
can  only  ask  with  penitence  and  prayer  that 
what  we  have  hitherto  exercised  amiss  may 
be  overruled  for  good,  and  that  what  we  have 
yet  to  exercise,  may  be  directed  by  Him  who 
alone  can  give  the  power  to  use  it  for  his 
glory. 

There  are  many  cases  of  practical  duty,  in 
w'.iich  it  seems  as  if  the  language  of  Scripture 
had,  by  general  consent,  been  explained  away 
as  referring  to  times  and  circumstances  in 
which  we  have  no  part.  In  none  is  this 
more  striking  than  as  regards  hospitality, 
few  of  us  considering  ourselves  at  all  the 
more  required  from  any  thing  we  meet  with 
there,  when  we  prepare  a  feast,  to  call  in  the 
poor  or  the  friendless  to  partake.  Without 
pretending  to  be  wiser  than  others,  by  apply- 
ing these  and  similar  injunctions  more  liter- 
ally than  they  appear  to  be  generally  under- 
stood, it  seems  to  me  a  question  of  deep  im- 
portance to  a  serious  mind,  whether  we  are 
not  many  of  us  required  to  go  much  further 
than  we  do  in  extending  our  hospitality  to 
those  who,  according  to  the  usages  of  the 
world,  may  appear  to  have  but  little  claim 
upon  such  attentions. 

There  is  an  extensive  class  of  persons, 
who,  if  we  would  do  to  them  as  we  would 
that  others  should  do  to  us  under  similar  cir- 
cumstances, instead  of  being  objects  of  gene- 


ral neglect,  would  become  objects  of  our 
especial  kindness  in  this  respect.  I  mean 
those  who  are  separated  from  their  own 
home-connections  by  becoming  assistants  in 
business,  or  otherwise  attached  to  families  in 
which  they  are  comparatively  strangers. 

It  cannot  be  denied  that  a  system  of  hospi- 
tality thus  carried  out  towards  persons  so 
circumstanced,  or  according  to  the  Scripture 
rule  of  inviting  those  who  cannot  ask  us  in 
return,  would  require  the  exercise  of  consid- 
erable self-denial  as  well  as  benevolence ; 
and  more  especially  so  with  those  whose 
homes  are  the  centre  and  the  source  of  the 
greatest  happiness  they  enjoy  ;  for  it  is  per- 
haps the  only  disadvantage  accompanying 
an  excess  of  this  home-feeling,  that  the  more 
perfect  is  the  satisfaction  with  which  we 
gather  into  the  domestic  circle,  the  less  wil- 
lingness we  feel  that  a  stranger  should  "  in- 
termeddle with  its  joys." 

Thus  we  sometimes  find  a  sort  of  house- 
hold exclusiveness,  and  a  too  great  concen- 
tration of  domestic  satisfaction,  prevailing  al- 
most to  the  extent  of  selfishness,  where  such 
feelings  are  indulged  without  the  restraint  of 
judgment  or  of  principle.  To  persons  in- 
fected with  this  home-mania,  their  own 
houses,  their  own  grounds,  their  own  habits, 
and  their  own  modes  of  thinking  and  living 
are  always  the  very  best  imaginable,  and 
such  as  bear  no  comparison  with  those  of 
any  other  family.  So  much  is  this  the  case, 
that  they  seem  almost  to  be  a  law  unto  them- 
sehes ;  while  above  every  thing  they  reject 
the  idea  of  being  improved  by  adopting  the 
views  and  the  practices  of  others.  It  is  needless 
to  say  that  such  persons  have  little  weight  to 
throw  into  the  scale  of  social  influence  either 
on  the  side  of  good  or  evil,  for  the  absurdi- 
ties they  exhibit  to  the  world  effectually  pre- 
vent their  doing  any  considerable  amount  of 
harm  beyond  what  is  negative. 

But  there  are  degrees  of  this  evil  against 
which  we  may  not  all  be  sufficiently  on  our 
guard,  because  we  may  be  mistaking  it  for 
good;  yet  when  it  stands  in  the  way  of  our 
practising  the  duty  of  hospitality,  we  should 
i  ask  ourselves  seriously  whether  that  home 


110 


THE  WIVES  OF  ENGLAND. 


which  ought  to  be  the  scene  of  our  greatest 
earthly  happiness  is  not  in  reality  the  temple 
of  our  worship.  A  higher  cultivation  of  the 
feeling  of  kindness  and  benevolence  towards 
others,  a  deeper  sympathy  for  their  trials  and 
sufferings,  a  more  earnest  solicitude  for  their 
welfare,  and  a  greater  desire  to  impart  the 
blessings  we  enjoy,  would,  I  am  persuaded, 
tend  very  much  to  reconcile  us  to  any  tem- 
porary interruption  of  our  domestic  enjoy- 
ments which  might  be  occasioned  by  the 
presence  of  a  stranger,  even  should  his  habits 
and  modes  of  thinking  be  the  most  dissimilar 
to  our  own.  And  if  any  thing  could  be  done 
by  this  means  to  improve  the  minds  and  mor- 
als of  that  important  class  of  society  who 
will  constitute  the  next  generation  of  men  of 
business — men  who  will  give  the  weight  of 
extensive  influence  either  to  the  side  of  good, 
or  evil,  that  strong  feeling  of  household  ex- 
clusiveness,  which  is  but  a  refined  and  ex- 
tended selfishness,  ought  certainly  in  some 
measure  to  give  way. 

We  complain  of  the  habits  of  young  men, 
and  with  some  cause,  yet  when  we  recollect 
of  what  materials  human  nature  is  composed, 
and  compare  these  with  the  situation  of 
young  men  generally ;  but  more  especially 
when  we  think  of  the  thousand  inviting 
avenues  to  sin  which  are  opened  to  their 
choice,  the  cordiality  with  which  they  are 
met  by  evil  associates,  and  invited  to  every 
rendezvous  of  vice ;  and  when  we  compare 
this  with  the  very  little  cordiality  they  meet 
with  on  the  opposite  side ;  the  scanty  wel- 
comes, the  cold  notice,  and  the  treatment 
equally  distant  and  disrespectful,  we  surely 
must  expect  them  to  be  more  than  human 
wholly  to  withstand  the  one,  and  to  bind  them- 
selves over  with  lasting  and  warm  attach- 
ment to  the  other. 

Young  men,  too,  are  often  diffident  of  their 
own  attractions  in  polished  society,  and  some- 
times not  without  considerable  reason,  more 
especially  when  they  find  themselves  treated 
in  respectable  company  with  every  demon- 
stration of  contempt  Here,  then,  we  must 
also  remember  that  vice  is  not  delicate  in  her 
distinctions.  In  her  wide  halls  of  revelry, 


the  ignorant,  the  mean,  and  the  unlettered 
find  a  welcome.  She  slights  them  not  for 
want  of.  polished  manners.  She  heeds  nei- 
ther personal  inferiority,  nor  unfashionable 
attire.  All — all  are  welcome,  from  the  raw 
stripling,  to  the  friendless  stranger,  who  finds 
not  in  the  wide  world  another  or  a  safer  home. 

In  contemplating  this  view  of  the  subject, 
I  have  often  thought,  what  an  amount  of 
good  might  be  effected,  if  a  little  more  attrac- 
tion were  held  out  by  Christians  in  general, 
towards  persons  of  this  class.  We  ought 
seriously  to  question,  too,  whether  we  are 
really  doing  them  justice — whether  we  are 
not  resting  too  well  satisfied  in  merely  urging 
upon  them  the  necessity  of  attention  to  pub- 
lic worship,  when  a  few  more  welcomes  into 
Christian  families  might  possibly  do  more  for 
their  real  good,  than  many  sermons  without 
participation  in  the  real  comforts  of  any  re- 
spectable home. 

Nor  is  it  the  mere  invitation  of  such  per- 
sons at  stated  times,  which  can  effect  the 
good  so  much  required,  the  mere  bestowment 
of  a  dinner,  or  the  mere  permission  to  come 
on  Sundays  and  be  present  during  the  hours 
of  family  devotion.  Good  as  this  unquestion- 
ably is,  there  is  something  else  required; 
and  this  something  should  be  supplied  by  the 
mistress  of  the  house ;  for,  I  repeat,  that  to 
woman  all  the  common  usages  of  kindness 
are  so  easy  and  familiar,  as  to  leave  her  little 
excuse  for  neglecting  the  claims  of  hospital- 
ity, which  constitute  so  essential  a  part  of 
social  duty.  There  is  much  kind  feeling 
conveyed  even  by  so  slight  an  act  as  a  cor- 
dial shake  of  the  hand,  but  especially  by  those 
apparently  slight  observations  upon  personal 
affairs,  which  evince  an  interest  in  the  situa- 
tion and  circumstances  of  a  guest,  and  which 
often  lead  to  a  freedom  of  communication 
which,  as  a  means  of  influence,  may  be  turned 
to  the  happiest  account 

In  all  associations  in  which  the  feelings  and 
affections  are  concerned,  it  must  never  be 
forgotten,  that  the  manner  in  which  an  act  of 
benevolence  is  done,  is  often  of  far  greater 
importance  than  the  act  itself — That  it  is 
possible  to  be  kind  in  an  unkind  manner ;  to 


SOCIAL  INFLUENCE. 


Ill 


give  a  great  deal  away,  and  yet  be  most  un- 
generous. This  truth  we  have  many  of  us, 
at  some  time  or  other  of  our  lives,  had  to  feel 
perhaps  too  keenly  for  our  peace.  Yet  it  is 
possible  the  thought  of  what  such  kindness 
cost  us,  may  prove  a  wholesome  one  in  its 
effect  upon  our  own  conduct  towards  others, 
by  teaching  us  how  to  soothe,  where  through 
ignorance  we  might  have  wounded ;  how  to 
attract,  where  we  might  have  repelled ;  and 
consequently  how  *  to  do  good,  where  we 
might  inadvertently  have  done  evil. 

But  it  is  useless  to  think  of  the  manner, 
until  we  have  seen  the  act  itself  to  be  a  duty ; 
and  I  would  here  appeal  to  the  wives  of 
England,  as  they  value  the  good  of  their 
country,  and  the  good  of  their  sons  and 
brothers — as  they  value  youth  in  gene- 
ral, and  regard  it  as  the  season  for  remem- 
bering our  Creator,  and  the  Giver  of  all  our 
blessings — as  they  would  cherish  its  buoyant 
hopes,  strengthen  its  high  capabilities,  and 
lay  an  imperishable  foundation  of  good, 
where  evil  must  otherwise  enter  and  occupy 
the  vacant  rodm — as  they  value  all  these 
considerations,  I  would  urge  them  not  to 
confine  their  social  kindness  merely  to  those 
who  can  requite  them  after  their  own  man- 
ner ;  but  to  extend  it  to  those  who,  though 
comparatively  strangers,  share  in  the  affec- 
tions and  the  feelings  of  a  common  nature, 
and  who  are  now  undergoing  the  formation 
of  their  characters  for  time  and  for  eternity. 

"  Not  following  lower  things,"— was  a  no- 
ble motto  adopted  by  a  noble  queen,*  when 
she  chose  as  emblematical  of  the  course  she 
intended  to  pursue,  a  marigold  turning  to 
the  sun.  Although  nothing  could  be  more  at 
variance  with  the  duties  of  a  wife,  and 
especially  one  of  that  class  of  society  to 
which  this  work  more  especially  applies,  than 
to  be  aspiring  after  any  selfish  or  personal 
aggrandizement  as  regards  mere  sublunary 
things ;  there  is  an  ambition,  if  I  may  call  it 
such,  which  ought  to  fill  the  heart,  and  rouse 
the  energies  of  every  Christian  woman  who 
stands  at  the  head  of  a  household,  whatever 

*  .Marguarite  of  Valois,  sister  of  Francis  I.,  and 
Queen  of  Navarre. 


her  position  may  be  with  regard  to  outward 
circumstances.  I  refer  to  that  aspiration 'af- 
ter higher  and  holier  things,  which  lifts  the 
soul  out  of  its  grovelling  anxieties  and  world- 
ly cares,  and  directs  its  hopes  unchangeably 
towards  the  world  which  is  eternal. 

It  is  not  consistent  with  the  aim  of  the 
writer  in  such  a  work  as  this,  to  enter  fully 
upon  tli£  subject  of  that  change  of  heart 
which  alone  can  qualify  for  forming  any  just 
or  proper  estimate  of  what  belongs  to  a  prep- 
aration for  the  heavenly  state.  Had  such 
been  my  intention,  I  would  not  have  left  the 
consideration  of  so  momentous  and  sublime 
a  theme,  to  the  last  few  pages  of  this  work. 
But  leaving  this  subject,  in  its  vastness  and 
its  depth — its  absorbing  interests,  and  its 
solemn  truths,  to  writers  of  a  higher  and  a 
weightier  character,  I  would  still  indulge  a 
hope  that  what  has  here  been  said  may  in 
some  degree  assist  towards  a  more  full  and 
satisfactory  exemplification  of  the  Christian 
character.  For  even  where  religion  is  felt 
and  owned  to  be  the  one  thing  needful,  and 
where  it  is  adopted  as  the  principle  and  the 
rule  of  life,  those  familiar  avocations  which 
occupy  the  attention  of  every  day  are  not 
always  conducted  in  the  spirit  which  ought 
to  regulate  the  Christian's  life.  Some  good 
persons  err  on  these  points  from  ignorance* 
some  from  want  of  thought,  and  many  from 
not  regarding  them  as  essential  to  religion ; 
and  thus  the  standard  of  excellence  is  low- 
ered, and  we  come  to  be  "satisfied  with  infe- 
rior things." 

It  would  as  ill  become  me,  as  it  would  be 
contrary  to  my  feelings,  to  speak  in  an  un- 
kind or  censorious  spirit  of  those,  who  with 
good  intentions,  and  while  making  great  en- 
deavors, fall  short  in  little  things ;  but  I  am 
convinced  that  along  with  this  deficiency, 
there  is,  to  a  certain  extent,  a  tendency  to 
aim  at  what  is  low,  sufficient  of  itself  to  pre- 
vent the  attainment  of  what  is  great.  The 
more  circumscribed  our  influence,  the  less 
this  tendency  is  seen  and  felt ;  but  when  we 
take  the  direction  of  a  household,  and  con- 
sequently have  much  to  do  with  the  forma- 
tion of  the  characters  around  us,  this  tenden- 


112 


THE  WIVES  OF  ENGLAND. 


cy  to  grovel  tells  to  an  amazing  and  incalcu- 
lable extent 

It  is  far  from  my  wish  to  write  on  this  sub- 
ject as  one  who  has  neither  knowledge  nor 
feeling  of  what  wives  in  general  have  to 
struggle  with,  in  the  way  of  depressing  or 
degrading  circumstances.  I  know  that  the 
occupations  of  a  household,  by  reminding  us 
perpetually  of  what  is  material,  have  a  strong 
tendency  to  occupy  the  mind  with  that  alone. 
I  know  that  under  wasted  health,  or  weari- 
ness, or  disappointment,  to  be  urged  to  strug- 
gle after  what  is  high,  sounds  like  a  mockery 
to  the  human  heart  And  I  know  too  that 
there  are  trials  in  the  lot  of  woman,  almost 
sufficient  of  themselves  to  quench  the,  very 
life  within  her  soul,  and  to  extinguish  there 
the  power  to  hope  for  any  thing  before  the 
grave.  I  know  that  the  spirit  may  be  har- 
assed— wounded — broken  ;  but  I  am  yet  to 
learn,  that  under  any  circumstances  we  are 
justified  in  giving  all  things  up. 

I  should  rather  reason  thus — that  having 
striven  after  excellence  in  every  department, 
we  have  so  multiplied  our  resources,  that 
something  always  must  be  left;  so  that  if 
nothing  in  the  shape  of  positive  happiness 
could  ever  reach  us  more,  we  should  still 
be  capable  of  adding  to  the  happiness  of 
others. 

But  the  most  powerful  and  widely  prevail- 
ing cause  of  that  moral  and  intellectual 
degradation — that  downward  tendency  of 
the  mind,  and  that  grovelling  of  the  spirit 
among  material  things,  which  is  so  much  to 
be  lamented  over  in  the  wives  of  the  present 
day,  arises  clearly  and  unquestionably  out  of 
the  false  estimate  so  universally  formed  of 
what  is  most  to  be  desired — nay,  of  what  is 
absolutely  essential  to  existence.  It  is  this 
vain  and  fruitless  ambition  with  regard  to 
worldly  thing?,  in  which  we  are  all  more  or 
less  engaged,  that  wears  down  our  energies, 
and  wearies  out  our  hopes.  It  is  the  disap- 
pointment, the  perplexity,  the  harass  of  this 
long  struggle,  which'  leaves  us  so  spiritless 
and  worn.  It  is  the  emptiness  of  our  suc- 
cess when  the  highest  worldly  wish  has  been 
attained,  which  makes  us,  in  the  midst  of 


all   our  coveted  possessions,   so    miserably 
poor. 

It  is  difficult  to  speak  strongly  on  these 
subjects,  yet  with  that  kindness  and  respect 
which  I  feel  that  my  countrywomen  deserve, 
and  deserve  especially  from  me.  But  when 
I  assert  again  that  it  is  not  intention  which  is 
in  fault,  so  much  as  a  certain  set  of  mistaken 
views  which  more  or  less  affect  us  all,  I 
would  fondly  hope  I  might  obtain  their  for- 
giveness for  being  more  than  commonly  earn- 
est in  so  important  a  cause.  In  this  hope  I 
appeal  to  their  own  hearts,  whether  the  daily 
conflict  they  are  many  of  them  enduring  is 
not  in  reality  after  that  which  "  perisheth  in 
the  using ;"  whether  it  ever  brings  them  a 
reward  at  all  commensurate  with  what  it 
costs  ;  and  whether  it  is  not  in  itself  a  weari- 
ness to  the  very  soul.  I  appeal  to  society  at 
large,  whether  the  importance  we  many  of 
us  attach  to  appearing  well  before  the  world, 
in  other  words,  to  dressing  and  living  in  a 
certain  style,  has  not  irritated  more  tempers, 
destroyed  more  peace,  occasioned  more  dis- 
putes, broken  more  spirits,  crossed  more  love, 
hindered  more  improvement,  and  caused 
more  spiritual  declension,  than  any  other 
single  cause  which  could  be  named.  And 
what  has  it  done  to  throw  into  the  opposite 
scale  1  Encouraged  one  kind  of  manufactory 
to  the  disadvantage  of  another,  changed  our 
fashions,  excited  our  vanity,  furnished  our 
houses,  decked  our  persons — and  what  then  1 
Sent  us  forth  into  society  envied  and  envying 
one  another,  and  disseminating  wherever  we 
might  go,  low  thoughts,  disparaging  allusions, 
and  uncharitable  feelings,  all  arising  out  of  the 
very  rivalry  and  competition  of  which  this 
fruitless  ambition  was  the  source. 

Let  us  look  at  one  channel  only  among  the 
many  thousands  through  which  it  operates  to 
the  destruction  of  human  happiness,  and  the 
disunion  of  natural  ties.  It  is  no  poet's  fable, 
and  I  speak  it  reverently,  believing  what  I 
speak,  when  I  say,  that  the  love  which  grows 
up  between  two  young  people  who  expect  to 
spend  their  lives  together,  is  of  every  earthly 
feeling  that  which  most  endears  to  us  all 
which  is  most  excellent  in  itself  most  beauti- 


SOCIAL  INFLUENCE. 


113 


ful  in  the  creation,  and  most  beneficent  in  the 
dispensations  of  an  all-wise  and  eternal  God. 
Who  then  would  quench  this  feeling,  or 
lower  its  exercise,  or  make  it  a  mere  slave 
to  wait  upon  the  customs  of  the  world  1  The 
voice  of  humanity  exclaims  against  so  base, 
so  foolish  a  perversion  of  our  nature.  Youth 
exclaims  against  it,  as  well  it  may.  Society 
— the  world  exclaims.  The  world  ]  No, 
that  can  never  be.  It  is  the  world  whose 
unrelenting  voice  demands  this  sacrifice — 
the  world  before  whose  artificial  glare  the 
star  of  love  must  hide  its  purer  ray. 

It  is  because  the  world  is  the  great  altar 
upon  which  the  hearts  of  multitudes  are  laid, 
that  the  shrine  of  domestic  happiness  so  often 
is  profaned  by  broken  vows — vows  broken  in 
the  spirit,  and  therefore  the  mere  symbols  of 
a  love,  without  its  sweetness  or  its  life.  It  is 
because  the  spirit  of  the  world  demands  that 
we  should  love  and  serve  the  mammon  of 
unrighteousness,  that  hearts  are  bought  and 
sold,  and  youth  is  wedded  to  old  age,  and 
every  mockery  of  feeling  which  imagination 
can  conceive,  is  perpetrated  under  the  grave 
name  of  prudence.  I  have  myself  advocated 
prudence,  and  I  have  urged  the  necessity  of 
waiting  for  what  are  popularly  considered  as 
sufficient  means.  Yet  this  has  been  chiefly 
in  conformity  with  the  universal  system  we 
acknowledge,  of  "  regarding  lower  things." 
I  did  not,  and  I  never  shall,  believe  the  sys- 
tem is  a  right  one  in  itself;  but  until  our 
views  are  more  enlightened,  and  our  princi- 
ples are  strong  enough  to  support  us  in  the 
effort,  it  would  be  worse  than  folly  to  advise 
that  individuals  here  and  there  should 
overstep  the  bounds  of  prudence  as  they 
are  now  laid  down,  not  knowing  what 
they  did. 

The  new  order  of  things  which  I  would 
advocate  must  be  a  general  one,  brought 
about  by  simultaneous  views,  and  feelings, 
and  determinations.  There  will  then  be  no 
world  to  fear,  for  we  shall  constitute  ourselves 
a  world,  in  which  lower  things  will  no  longer 
be  regarded,  except  as  such — a  world  in 
which  the  warmest  feelings  of  the  heart  will 
no  longer  be  considered  as  bearing  any  com- 


parison, in  value,  with  the  cold  formalities  of 
artificial  life — a  world  in  which  what  we 
wear,  and  what  we  use,  shall  no  longer  be 
esteemed  as  more  important  than  what  we 
do — a  world  in  which  people  shall  be  judged 
of  by  what  they  are,  and  not  by  what  they 
possess — a  world  in  which  what  is  costly  and 
brilliant  in  ornament,  shall  give  place  to  that 
which  is  excellent  in  character,  and  sterling 
in  value. 

And  when  shall  this  bright  epoch  arrive  ? — 
this  dawning  of  better  hopes — this  day  of 
promise  for  our  country,  and  our  homes  ]  It 
will  arrive  when  the  wives  of  England  shall 
hold  themselves  above  their  circumstances ; 
and,  estimating  that  most  highly  which  is 
really  high,  shall  understand  how  principle  is 
the  basis  of  all  good  ;  and  having  subjected 
these  principles  to  the  word  of  God,  and  tried 
them  by  the  only  test  which  is  safe  and  true, 
they  may  then  adorn  the  superstructure  by 
all  which  the  purest  taste  and  the  most 
chastened  feeling  can  suggest 

In  adopting  the  motto  of  one  of  the  most 
amiable  and  accomplished  of  female  sover- 
eigns, we  must  not  forget  that  hers  was  the 
pursuit  of  excellence  of  almost  every  kind ; 
in  her  studies,  her  attainments,  and  in  all 
those  graces  of  mind  and  person  which  adorn 
a  court.  Nor  do  I  see  why  the  raising  of  our 
highest  admiration  to  that  which  is  highest 
in  itself,  should  in  any  respect  interfere  with 
our  desire  after  excellence  in  general. 

It  is  a  melancholy  thought,  when  marriage 
has  united  the  destiny  of  two  human  beings 
for  this  life  at  least,  that  one  of  them  should 
grow  indifferent  to  those  qualities  of  mind 
and  person  which  formed  the  chief  attraction 
to  the  other.  It  is  a  melancholy  thought,  that 
when  a  wife  has  taken  upon  herself  the  du- 
ties which  belong  to  the  mistress  of  a  family, 
she  should  be  willing  to  lose  those  charms 
which  constitute  the  loveliness  of  woman.  It 
is  a  melancholy  thought,  that  because  she  has 
become  a  useful,  she  must  cease  to  be  an  in- 
tellectual, being.  But  it  cannot — it  must  not 
be.  The  very  thought  is  one  of  treason 
against  the  love  and  the  happiness  of  mar- 
ried life  ;  for  what  is  there  among  all  the  em- 


8 


114 


THE  WIVES  OF  ENGLAND. 


bellishments  of  female  character,  which  this 
love  cannot  legitimately  appropriate,  and  this 
happiness  enhance  and  improve ! 

In  no  other  situation  in  life  can  woman  find 
so  appropriate  a  sphere  for  the  exercise  of 
every  grace,  and  the  display  of  every  charm, 
as  in  the  centre  of  her  home-enjoyments ;  yet 
here,  how  often  do  we  find  that  she  permits 
all  the  poetry  of  her  mind  to  be  extinguished, 
and  after  that  the  beautiful  too  often  fades 
away.  Life  may  remain  the  same  to  her  in 
all  its  tangible  realities ;  but  as  the  sunshine 
passes  from  the  landscape,  so  the  light  which 
gives  freshness  and  vividness  to  every  object, 
is  gone  forever. 

It  is  said  she  has  actual  and  pressing  cares, 
which  absorb  her  attention,  to  the  exclusion 
of  other,  and  especially  of  higher,  thoughts. 
But  here  again  is  her  mistake.    It  is  not  in 
woman's  nature  to  be  degraded  or  brought 
down  by  care,  provided  only  the  objects  of 
her  solicitude  are  worthy  in  themselves,  or 
such  as  call  forth  feelings  worthy  of  being 
indulged.   The  care — the  love — the  brooding 
tenderness  of  a  fond  mother  or  a  faithful 
wife — when,  I  would  ask,  was  woman  found 
the  worse  for  these  ]     No.    It  is  the  element 
hi  which  she  lives,  to  care  for  those  she  loves. 
It  is  in  this  clement  that  all  her  virtues  rise 
and  shine ;  while  her  whole  character  as- 
sumes a  higher  and  more  spiritual  excel- 
lence.   We  talk  of  altered  circumstances,  and 
personal  privations,  but  we  libel  the  true  heart 
of  woman  when  we  think  it  cannot  stand  the 
shock  of  such  extremes  as  these.    No,  these 
are  not  the  foes  she  fears ;  and  it  is  an  insult 
to  her  understanding,  when  society  persuades 
her  that  she  does  fear  them.    Within  her 
heart  of  hearts  she  has  a  nobler  conviction, 
that  her  husband's  happiness,  and  her  own 
integrity  and  truth,  are  more  to  her  than  all 
the  riches  in  the  world.    Why  then,  with 
these  convictions,  and  with  that  strong  capa- 
bility which  constitutes  her  dower,  of  rising 
above  the  tide  of  circumstance,  and  living 
apart  from  worldly  things  in  the  higher  work 
of  her  affections — why  will  woman  stoop  to 
be  the  slave  of  habit,  of  custom,  and  most  of 
all,  of  fashion,  until  her  vanity  and  self-indul 


jence  become  the  bane  of  man's  existence, 
and  her  own  1 

And  is  it  well  that  men,  whose  daily  avo- 
cations necessarily  call  into  service,  as  one 
of  their  great  principles  of  action,  a  worldly 
and  a  selfish  spirit — is  it  right  that  they  should 
ae  urged,  nay,  goaded  on,  in  the  perpetual 
race  of  personal  and  family  aggrandizement, 
by  those  who  profess  to  love  them,  and  who, 
consequently,  ought  to  seek  their  ultimate  and 
real  good  7  May  we  not  rather  leave  to  them 
the  whole  adjustment  of  these  worldly  mat- 
ters ?  It  is  their  business,-  and  their  duty,  to 
find  a  place  among  their  fellow-men,  to  es- 
tablish a  footing  in  society,  and  to  maintain  it 
by  all  just  and  honorable  means.  This  is  no 
care  of  woman's.  Her  appropriate  part  is  to 
adorn  that  station  wherever  it  may  be,  by  a 
contented  mind,  an  enlightened  intellect,  a 
chastened  spirit,  and  an  exemplary  life. 

I  have  dwelt  much  upon  the  influence  of 
woman  in  social  and  domestic  life,  and  in  her 
married  state  she  will  find  that  influence  ex- 
tending almost  on  every  hand.  What,  then, 
will  be  her  situation,  without  the  aid  of  per- 
sonal religion,  to  give  a  right  direction  to  its 
operations  upon  other  minds  7  But  what 
will  be  her  situation  altogether  without  this 
aid? 

The  thought  is  too  appalling. 
"  A  boat  sent  out  to  sail  alone 
At  midnight  on  the  moonless  sea," 

might  bear  some  comparison  to  the  situation 
of  a  solitary  being  trusting  herself  upon  the 
world's  great  ocean  without  this  guide ;  but 
a  richly-freighted  Vessel,  crowded  with  hu- 
man beings,  and  bearing  in  its  bosom  the  in- 
terests of  as  many  souls,  yet  venturing  out  to 
sea  without  a  pilot,  without  a  compass,  with- 
out any  hope  or  means  of  safety,  might  with 
more  justice  be  compared  to  the  woman  who 
should  dare  to  engage  in  the  deep  responsi- 
bilities of  married  life,  without  religion  to  di- 
rect her  course.  Whatever  difficulties  ma\ 
be  thus  encountered,  she  cannot  meet  them 
alone.  Whatever  dangers,  others  are  drawn 
in  to  share  them  with  her.  Whatever  storms 
she  braves  them  only  at  the  peril  of  the  pre- 
cious lives  committed  to  her  trust  Whatever 


SOCIAL  INFLUENCE. 


115 


rock  she  strikes  upon,  it  wrecks  not  her  alone, 
but  all — all  the  rich  treasury  of  hopes  and  in- 
terests which  she  bore  along  with  her  in  that 
presumptuous  course,  and  for  all  these  she  is 
accountable.  I  repeat,  the  thought  is  too  ap- 
palling. Let  us  turn  to  scenes  of  more  famil- 
iar occurrence,  where  there  is  more  satisfac- 
tion, because  there  is  more  hope. 

There  is  a  large  class  of  persons,  who  with- 
out having  given  up  their  hearts  entirely  to 
the  influence  of  personal  religion,  are  wishing 
that  they  could  do  so,  and  intending  some 
time  or  other  that  they  will.  On  all  solemn 
occasions  they  feel  as  if  they  actually  would ; 
and  never  more  so  perhaps  than  when  they 
enter  upon  the  duties  of  married  life.  To 
woman  this  is  so  great  and  important  a 
change,  that  it  naturally  produces,  if  any 
thing  can,  trains  of  reflection  highly  favorable 
to  an  altered  and  improved  state  of  mind 
altogether ;  and  if  she  has  ever  seriously 
thought  of  religion,  she  does  so  then.  Those 
who  rest  satisfied  with  good  intentions,  and 
especially  in  religious  matters,  are  glad  of  any 
alteration  in  their  circumstances  which  they 
think  will  make  it  easier  to  begin  ;  and  they 
hail  the  opening  of  a  new  life,  as  the  entrance 
upon  one  which  will  be  more  exemplary 
than  the  past  Thus  it  is  often  with  perfect 
sincerity,  that  the  young  religious  professor 
believes  she  will  set  out  upon  a  new  career 
when  engaging  in  the  duties  of  a  wife.  Her 
feelings  are  much  softened,  too,  by  separation 
from  her  former  friends ;  she  fears  the  diffi- 
culties of  her  untried  path  ;  and  thus  is  alto- 
gether more  disposed  than  ever  in  her  life 
before  to  do,  and  to  be,  what  she  sees  clearly 
to  be  right  If,  under  these  circumstances, 
she  has  married  a  good  man,  her  first  temp- 
tation will  be  to  think,  for  that  reason,  that 
she  must  be  good  herself;  if  a  man  who  has 
little  or  no  religion,  her  first  trial  will  be  to 
find  that  instead  of  being  helped,  as  she  had 
expected,  so  smoothly  on  her  way,  she  has, 
in  addition  to  her  own  difficulties,  to  help 
him  and  all  his  household. 

But  a  more  familiar  temptation,  and  a  more 
frequent  trial  than  either  of  these,  is  one 
which  steals  by  its  insidious  nature  into  the 


very  heart  of  domestic  life;  and  it  works 
the  more  deceitfully  by  mixing  itself  up  with 
all  that  is  most  reputable  and  most  approved 
in  society  in  general,  and  not  less  than  others, 
in  the  society  of  the  good. 

Persons  of  this  description,  in  all  probabili- 
ty, seek  the  acquaintance  of  the  well-mean- 
ing young  wife,  or  she  seeks  theirs ;  and  be- 
ing a  sincere  and  somewhat  hopeful  charac- 
ter, not  having  much  foundation  of  her  own, 
but  easily  led  on  by  others,  she  is  induced  by 
their  companionship  to  take  a  higher  stand- 
ing in  religious  matters  than  she  ever  did  be- 
fore. Encouraged  by  their  kindness,  she  ad- 
vances step  by  step,  progressing  outwardly, 
and  gaining  confidence  as  she  goes  on.  All 
this  perhaps  might  be  well,  for  she  is  still 
sincere  so  far  as  her  self-knowledge  extends ; 
but  here  again  the  spirit  of  the  world  creeps 
in.  Indeed  the  question  is,  whether  she  has 
not  all  the  while  been  actuated  by  the  spirit 
of  the  world,  for  it  is  now  so  reputable  to  be 
religious,  that  temptation  can  assume  this 
form  as  well  as  any  other. 

With  this  advance  in  an  outward,  and, 
perhaps,  too  visible  profession,  the  cares  of 
the  young  wife  increase.  The  circle  of  her 
acquaintance  widens.  Visits  und  morning- 
calls  are  not  to  be  neglected ;  and  well  if  they 
are  not  devoted  to  that  most  objectionable  of 
all  kinds  of  gossip,  which  chooses  the  minis- 
ter and  the  observances  of  a  religious  life,  for 
its  theme.  But  in  addition  to  this,  the  young 
wife  listens  to  the  popular  and  common  talk 
about  low  worldly  things.  She  learns  to  think 
much  of  her  furniture,  much  of  her  dress, 
and  much  of  the  manner  in  which  she  enter- 
tains her  friends.  Nay,  she  is  even  glad  to 
see  that  all  this  competition  does  not  appear 
to  be  discarded  from  the  fashionable  world. 
As  time  passes  on,  she  becomes  more  and 
more  absorbed  by  the  growing  cares  and 
thickening  perplexities  of  every  day;  until 
at  last  it  might  become  a  matter  of  doubt  to 
those  around  her,  which  in  reality  occupied 
her  thoughts  the  most,  the  preparation  for  a 
party,  or  the  preparation  for  eternity. 

Need  we  wonder  that  such  a  woman  has 
little  religious  influence?  That  she  fails  to 

V 


116 


THE  WIVES  OF  ENGLAND. 


adorn  the  doctrine  of  our  Saviour,  or  to  com- 
mend the  faith  which  she  professes?  Need 
we  wonder  that  her  husband,  her  servants, 
society  at  large,  are  not  made  better  by  her 
conversation  and  her  example  ?  Yet  strange 
to  say,  it  is  sometimes  wondered  at  that  the 
religious  conversation  of  such  persons  does 
not  do  good,  and  they  themselves,  when  they 
have  leisure  for  it,  will  labor  diligently  for  the 
conversion  of  the  poor.  But  they  forget  that 
those  around  them,  and  especially  the  poor, 
are  quick-sighted  to  their  inconsistencies,  and 
that  they  know  by  other  evidence  than  words, 
when  the  world  is  really  in  the  heart 

By  this  slight  picture,  far  be  it  from  me  to 
convey  an  idea  that  I  could  represent  the 
really  changed  in  heart ;  for  I  know  that  theirs 
is  a  foundation  which  none  of  these  things 
move.  I  speak  of  those  who  have  been  only 
almost  persuaded,  and  who,  on  the  solemn 
occasion  of  their  marriage,  have  set  out  in 
life  with  serious  views  and  good  intentions ; 
yet  whatever  may  be  the  clearness  of  these 
views,  or  the  strength  of  these  intentions,  I 
believe  that  a  great  number  of  hopeful  begin- 
nings have  been  frustrated  by  this  single  root 
of  evil,  this  spirit  of  the  world.  I  believe  also, 
that  more  spiritual  declension  among  women 


may  be  traced  to  the  same  cause,  than  to  all 
the  vice  and  all  the  infidelity  to  be  met  with 
among  the  openly  profane. 

It  is  then  against  this  single  enemy,  above 
all  others,  that  married  women  have  to  sus- 
tain each  other  in  waging  constant  and  de- 
termined war.  I  repeat,  it  is  hard,  too  hard, 
for  any  single  individual  to  struggle  against 
the  tide  of  popular  feeling,  more  especially 
when  religion  numbers  in  her  ranks  so  many 
who  divide  her  claims  with  those  of  the  world. 
But  if  the  happiness  of  home  be  precious,  we 
have  that  at  stake.  If  our  intellectual  and 
moral  good  be  worth  preserving,  we  have 
that  to  cherish.  If  our  religious  influence  be 
the  most  important  treasure  committed  to 
our  trust,  we  have  that  to  hold  secure.  All 
to  which  the  best  feelings  of  the  heart  attach 
themselves  as  lovely  and  enduring  is  ours, 
if  we  maintain  this  conflict  as  we  ought ;  and 
sink  under  it  we  never  need,  for  we  know  to 
whom  to  go  for  help. 

Let  us  then  remember  that  a  worldly 
spirit  is  the  very  opposite  of  that  which  finds 
its  home  in  Heaven ;  and  if  our  interests  are 
sufficiently  engaged  in  what  is  spiritual  and 
eternal,  we  shall  not  easily  be  turned  away 
to  fix  them  upon  "  lower  things." 


THE 


MOTHERS  OF  ENGLAND: 


THKIR 


INFLUENCE   AND   RESPONSIBILITY. 


BY  MRS,  ELLlfe 


AUTHOR  OF  "THE  WOMEN  OP  ENGLAND,"  ''SONS  OF  THE  SOIL,"  "HINTS  TO  MAKE  HOME 
HAPPY,"  AND  "THE  WIVES  OF  ENGLAND." 


UNIFORM  EDITION, 

COMPLETE    IN    ONE    VOLUME. 


NEW    YORK: 
HENRY    G.    LANGLEY,    8   ASTOR   HOUSE. 

1844. 


PREFACE. 


IN  offering  to  the  public  the  last  of  a 
series  of  works  on  the  subject  of  female 
duty,  I  feel  that  to  confess  their  defi- 
ciencies, would  not  be  to  supply  them  ; 
and,  therefore,  I  would  prefer  soliciting 
the  attention  of  the  reader  to  this  fact — 
that  they  have  not  been  written  under  the 
idea  of  presenting  an  entire  summary  of 
the  life  and  character  of  woman,  in  the 
situations  of  daughter,  wife,  and  mother, 
nor  consequently  under  that  of  offering  a 
substitute  for  any  of  those  standard  and 
excellent  works  on  the  same  subject  which 
adorn  our  libraries,  but  rather  with  the 
hope  of  throwing  out  a  few  hints  and 
observations  relative  to  the  present  state 
of  English  society,  the  tendency  of  mod- 
ern education,  and  the  peculiar  social 
and  domestic  requirements  of  the  country 
and  the  times  in  which  we  live. 

Thus  I  have  purposely  avoided  entering 
upon  many  important  points  of  duty,  and 
particularly  those  of  a  strictly  religious 
nature,  because  I  knew  that  the  reader 
could  find  them  more  clearly  and  more 
ably  treated  elsewhere  ;  and  because  I 
felt  it  to  be  more  within  the  compass  of 
my  own  qualifications,  to  endeavor  to 
assist  and  encourage  the  inexperienced, 
but  well  meaning,  than  to  instruct  the 
ignorant,  or  to  convert  the  irreligious. 

Looking  seriously  at  those  faults  which 
are  generally  allowed,  and  at  those  follies 
which  are  sometimes  by  society,  I  have 
been  compelled  occasionally  to  speak  in 


strong  language  of  certain  peculiarities  in 
the  present  aspect  of  social  and  domestic 
life,  and  especially  of  some  of  the  habits 
and  prejudices  of  my  own  sex.  Had  such 
peculiarities  been  less  popular,  or  less 
generally  indulged;  had  they,  in  short, 
been  regarded  as  objectionable,  rather 
than  otherwise,  there  would  have  been  no 
need  for  me  to  have  made  any  of  them  the 
subject  of  a  book ;  but  the  very  fact  of 
the  opinion  of  society,  and  of  many  ex- 
cellent persons,  being  in  fa.vor  of  that 
which  is  really  opposed  to  the  true  inter- 
ests of  mankind,  render  it  the  more  neces- 
sary for  those  who  think  differently,  to 
speak  what  they  believe  to  be  the  truth, 
and  speak  it  without  palliation  or  re- 
serve. 

If,  in  the  performance  of  this  somewhat 
stern  duty,  I  may  at  times  have  appeared 
unjust  or  unsisterly  to  the  class  of  readers 
whose  attention  I  have  been  anxious  to 
engage,  they  will  surely  have  been  able 
to  perceive  that  it  was  from  no  want  of 
sympathy  with  the  weakness,  the  trials, 
and  the  temptations  to  which  woman  is 
peculiarly  liable,  but  rather,  since  we 
can  least  bear  a  fault  in  that  which  we 
most  admire,  from  an  extreme  solicitude 
that  woman  should  fill,  with  advantage  to 
others  and  enjoyment  to  herself,  that  high 
place  in  the  creation  for  which  I  believe 
her  character  to  have  been  designed. 

It  was  originally  my  intention  to  have 
added  to  the  present  work,  a  chapter  of 


PREFACE. 


hints  for  step-mothers,  and  another  on  the 
consolations  of  old  maids,  which  I  am  far 
from  believing  to  be  few  ;  but  the  sub- 
ject more  immediately  under  consideration 
grew,  from  its  importance,,  to  the  usual 
extent  of  a  book,  almost  before  I  was 
aware  of  it ;  and  it  grew  also  upon  my 
own  mind,  as  the  duties  and  responsibili- 


ties of  a  mother  were  gradually  unfolded, 
to  an  aspect  of  such  solemn,  profound,  and 
unanswerable  interest,  that  I  feel  the  more 
forcibly  how  inadequate  are  my  feeble 
representations  to  do  justice  to  the  claims 
of  society  upon  the  self-devoted,  consci- 
entious, and  persevering  exertions  of  the 
Mothers  of  England. 


THE 


MOTHERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


CHAPTER  I. 

A  MOTHER'S  FIRST  THOUGHTS. 

To  attempt  a  description  of  the  feelings  of 
a  mother  on  that  important  event  which  ush- 
ers into  the  world  an  immortal  being,  des- 
tined to  be  her  peculiar  charge,  in  its  prepa- 
ration both  for  this  world  and  the  next,  would 
be  to  lift  the  natural  veil,  beyond  which  are 
shrouded  those  inner  workings  of  the  ele- 
ments of  happiness  and  misery,  with  which 
it  may  be  truly  said,  that  a  stranger  inter- 
meddleth  not.  Still  there  are — there  must  be 
thoughts  common  to  all  mothers  who  reflect 
seriously ;  and  it  is  with  these  chiefly,  that 
the  writer  on  maternal  influence  has  to  do. 

It  is  no  disparagement  to  that  strongest  of 
all  principles  in  the  female  sex — a  mother's 
love — to  call  it  a  mere  instinct ;  for  such  it 
must  be,  when  shared  in  common  with  the 
animal  creation.  Yet  surely  an  instinct  of 
such  power  as  this,  cannot  be  acted  upon  by 
a  rational  and  responsible  being,  without  anx- 
ious inquiry  as  to  the  direct  nature  of  that  re- 
sponsibility ;  and  why,  in  the  ordinations  of 
Divine  Providence,  an  instinct  so  powerful 
should  have  been  implanted  in  the  mother's 
breast. 

A  mother's  love,  then,  could  never  have 
been  intended  merely  to  be  trifled  with  in  the 
nursery,  or  expended  in  infantine  indulgence. 
That  which  is  strong  enough  to  overcome  the 
universal  impulse  of  self-preservation — that 
which  brings  the  timid  bird  to  stoop  her  wing 
to  the  destroyer,  in  order  to  lure  him  from  her 
nestlings — that  which  softens  into  tenderness 
the  nature  of  the  eagle,  and  the  lion — that 
which  has  power  to  render  the  feeblest  and 
most  delicate  of  women,  unflinching,  heroical, 


and  bold — can  never  have  been  given  by  the 
Author  of  our  existence,  for  any  mean  or  tri- 
fling purpose.  In  the  animal  creation  we  see 
that  this  wonder-working  principle  answers 
the  end  of  its  creation,  simply  by  instructing 
the  mother  how  to  prepare  for  her  offspring, 
and  by  enabling  her  to  protect  and  provide 
for  them  during  the  limited  period  of  their 
helplessness,  and  incapacity  for  providing  for 
themselves. 

Thus  far  the  human  mother  proceeds  in 
the  same  manner ;  but  as  there  is  an  exist- 
ence beyond  this,  for  which  she  has  to  pre- 
pare, so  the  love  of  the  human  mother,  by  its 
continuance  to  the  end  of  life,  is  beautifully 
adapted  to  those  higher  responsibilities  which 
devolve  upon  her  as  the  parent  of  an  immor- 
tal being,  whose  lot,  it  is  her  privilege  to  hope, 
will  be  cast  among  the  happy,  the  holy,  and 
the  pure,  for  ever. 

There  is  then  a  deep  moral  connected  with 
the  joyful  tidings,  that  a  child  is  born  into  the 
world.  And  "joyful"  let  us  call  these  tidings, 
notwithstanding  all  which  a  morbid  and  mis- 
erable philosophy  would  teach,  about  another 
human  creature  being  sent  into  this  world, 
to  sin  and  suffer  like  the  rest.  Yes,  "joyful" 
let  us  call  it ;  for  the  beneficent  Creator  him- 
self has  designed  that  there  should  be  joy, 
and  nature  attests  that  there  is  joy,  connect- 
ed with  this  event ;  while  the  fond  heart  of 
the  mother  acknowledges  in  the  smiles  of 
her  infant,  an  "overpayment  of  delight"  for 
all  her  solicitudes,  her  anxieties,  and  her 
fears. 

And  why  should  the  mother  not  rejoice  ? 
Has  she  not  become  the  possessor  of  a  new 
nature,  to  whose  support  she  can  devote  all 
the  vast  resources  of  her  self-love,  without 


THE  MOTHERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


its  selfishness?  '  She  has  now  an  object  pecu- 
liarly her  own,  for  which  to  think  and  to  feel ; 
and,  not  less — for  which  to  suffer.  It  is  with 
joy  then  that  a  new  being  is  ushered  into  the 
world,  to  share  its  portion  among  the  many, 
in  the  mingled  lot  of  human  weal  and  wo  ; 
to  enter  upon  a  career  in  which  it  is  but  rea- 
sonable to  indulge  the  hope  of  filling  an  hon- 
ored- place  on  the  great  theatre  of  life,  of 
contributing  its  share  to  the  sum  of  human 
happiness,  and  of  enjoying  in  its  turn  the  full 
exercise  of  all  those  faculties  of  mind  and 
!  body,  with  which  so  much  happiness  is  con- 
nected. 

Why  should  the  mother  not  rejoice  ?  Have 
we  so  learned  the  doctrine  of  our  Lord  and 
Saviour,  that  we  cannot  trust  to  him  the 
keeping  of  our  earthly  treasure?  Surely 
there  is  infidelity  of  the  most  ungrateful  kind, 
in  that  spirit  which  believes,  and  yet  knows 
not  how  to  trust  But  there  is  both  hope  and 
trust  in  the  mother's  heart  at  that  glad  mo- 
ment when  she  folds  her  infant  to  her  bosom ; 
for  though  she  may  herself  have  failed  in 
judgment  and  in  will  ten  thousand  times,  and 
fallen  short  in  acts  of  duty  almost  beyond  the 
hope  of  pardon,  she  looks  into  the  guileless 
countenance  of  her  child,  and  while  the  tears 
of  true  repentance  fall  upon  its  brow,  she 
dedicates  its  young  life,  with  all  its  growing 
energies,  to  a  holier  and  more  faithful  service 
than  she,  with  her  weakness  and  wayward- 
ness, has  been  able  to  pursue. 

Granting  then  that  there  is  joy  in  the  event 
of  a  child  being  ushered  into  life,  and  that 
such  joy  is  founded  chiefly  upon  a  kind  of 
indefinite  hope,  which  fills  the  mother's 
breast;  granting,  also,  as  one  of  our  first 
poets  has  beautifully  said,  that 

"  The  food  of  Hope 

Is  meditated  action," 

the  most  natural  inquiry — nay,  that  which 
must  necessarily  follow  in  the  mind  of  a  ra- 
tional woman,  is — For  what  shall  I  prepare 
my  child  ? 

Pending  the  solution  of  this  most  impor- 
tant question,  it  is  more  than  probable  that 
the  mother's  thoughts  will  go  back  to  her 


own  childhood.  By  the  many  retrospective 
glances  she  has  at  different  times  thrown 
back  upon  the  course  of  her  own  life,  she 
will  no  doubt  have  been  able  to  perceive 
many  defects  in  the  management  and  train- 
ing by  which  she  was  herself  conducted  from 
infancy  to  youth,  and  now,  if  ever,  she  looks 
seriously  upon  this  picture,  with  a  fervent  de- 
sire to  ascertain  the  truth ;  to  make  'out,  as 
in  a  faithful  chart,  the  rocks  and  shoals  upon 
which  her  own  bark  may  at  different  times 
have  nearly  suffered  shipwreck ;  as  well  as 
the  safer  channels  through  which  she  has  at 
other  times  been  enabled  to  pass  unharmed. 

There  are  quiet  hours  permitted  almost  to 
all,  before  a  mother  enters  again  upon  the  ac- 
tive duties  of  life,  during  which  this  peculiar 
kind  of  retrospection  might  be,  and  no  doubt 
often  is,  carried  on  with  lasting  benefit  to  her- 
self and  her  family.  Yet,  on  the  other  hand, 
it  is  deeply  to  be  regretted,  that  the  frivolous 
or  low  conversation  of  an  ignorant  nurse, 
should  so  often  be  permitted  to  rob  these 
golden  hours  of  their  real  value,  by  the  in- 
troduction of  idle  jests  and  vulgar  gossip, 
gathered  up  from  other  families  and  house- 
holds, where  the  nurse  has  been  in  some 
measure  a  confidential,  though  temporary 
servant ;  and  where  she  must  necessarily 
have  formed  but  a  very  imperfect  idea  of 
the  general  state  of  things  within  the  do- 
mestic circle.  How  many  a  private  history, 
whether  true  or  false,  has  been  thus  detail- 
ed— how  many  a  character  has  been  robbed 
of  its  good  name — how  many  an  injurious 
suspicion  has  been  excited  which  time  could 
never  afterwards  obliterate,  those  women  best 
can  tell,  who  have  found  the  first  weeks  of 
a  mother's  life  hang  heavily  upon  their  hands, 
because  shut  out  from  their  accustomed  oc- 
cupations and  amusements  ;  and  who  have 
consequently  resorted  to  this  means,  in  the 
hope  of  obtaining  relief  from  the  burden  of 
their  own  dull  thoughts. 

I  have  no  voluntary  condemnation  to  pass 
upon  the  class  of  necessary  assistants  to 
which  these  expressions  refer.  So  far  from 
it,  I  have  often  thought  that  their  unremitting 
exertions,  their  cheerful  devotedness  to  the 


A  MOTHER'S  FIRST  THOUGHTS. 


comfort  of  a  family  in  which  they  can  feel 
no  particular  interest;  and,  above  all,  their 
care  and  solicitude  for  the  preservation  of  a 
young  life  which  can  never  be  any  thing  to 
them, — entitle  these  nurses,  especially,  to  grat- 
itude and  respect.  That  they  are  not  a  more 
enlightened  class  of  women,  is  certainly  no 
fault  of  theirs ;  and  if  they  do  sometimes 
make  family  histories  fill  up  the  long  hours 
of  their  attendance  in  a  sick-room,  tne  blame 
of  their  doing  so  attaches  far  more  to  those 
who  listen,  than  to  those  who  tell. 

But  what  is  the  young  mother  to  do  under 
these  circumstances,  who  has  never  cultivated 
the  habit  of  serious  thought,  and  still  less  that 
of  self-examination  1  By  such  there  is  but 
one  thing  to  be  done — to  begin  to  cultivate 
these  habits  now.  Hitherto  she  may  have 
believed  that  she  was  acting  only  for  herself, 
and  therefore  she  may  have  been  willing,  to 
a  certain  extent,  to  reap  the  consequences  of 
her  own  actions  ;  but  now  the  consequences 
are  strictly  to  another,  and  that  other  a  being 
almost  dearer  than  herself.  Upon  her  parents, 
her  relations,  nay,  even  upon  her  husband,  she 
may  have  secretly  thrown  the  blame  of  many 
of  her  own  faults  and  deficiencies  ;  but  there 
can  be  no  blame  thrown  upon  another  here. 
The  field  is  open  before  her,  in  which  she 
has  to  act — the  page  is  clear  and  vacant  upon 
which  she  has  to  write.  Whatever  is  written 
there  in  the  capacity  of  a  mother,  is  written 
on  her  own  responsibility — whatever  is  done, 
is  done  for  time,  and  for  eternity. 

There  are  cases  occurring  to  all  of  us,  per- 
haps, oftener  than  the  day,  in  which  we  do 
not  take  the  trouble  to  decide  whether  we  are 
right  or  wrong,  simply  because  we  deem  the 
occasion  of  too  little  consequence  to  merit  any 
serious  thought ;  or,  at  all  events,  even  while 
we  feel  that  we  are  a  little  wrong,  we  satisfy 
the  claims  of  conscience  by  the  plea  that  it  is 
our  custom — our  habit — or  a  thing  we  must 
do,  because  we  have  always  done  it  But  in 
the  training  of  a  child,  this  plea  can  never  be 
allowed,  if  indeed  it  had  been  available  before, 
because  every  thing  is  of  consequence  then  ; 
and  the  sins  of  omission  in  that  most  trying 
process,  tell  as  legibly  upon  the  character 


under  formation,  as  those  which  are  more 
positive  and  direct 

From  the  duties  of  a  mother  there  is  then 
no  escape  ;  and  hence  it  follows,  that  if  ever, 
in  the  whole  course  of  woman's  life,  she  is 
called  upon  to  think  seriously,  it  is  when  she 
first  becomes  a  parent.  I  cannot  but  suppose, 
however,  that  English  mothers  will  most  of 
them  have  learned  to  think  seriously  long 
before  this  period,  except  indeed,  in  those 
lamentable  cases,  where  the  husband  has 
chosen  a  companion  for  life,  simply  from  the 
fancy  of  a  moment — where  the  rose  of  a 
blooming  cheek,  the  grace  of  a  lovely  form, 
or  the  sparkling  pleasantry  of  an  undisciplined 
spirit,  have  been  presumed  upon  as  guaran- 
tees for  the  happiness  of  a  whole  life. 

Were  I  writing  a  book  for  the  benefit  of 
men  instead  of  women,  I  might  here  enlarge 
upon  the  domestic  calamities  to  which  many 
have  subjected  themselves  in  consequence  of 
making  this  kind  of  choice.  I  must  confess 
that  to  me  the  spectacle  of  a  silly  mother 
surrounded  by  a  family  of  children  whom  she 
has  neither  the  skill  to  influence,  nor  the 
dignity  to  control,  has  always  presented  one 
of  the  most  melancholy  aspects  of  human 
life.  But  in  whatever  point  of  view  this  pic- 
ture should  be  presented,  it  is  more  than  prob- 
able that  men  would  still  go  on  to  please 
themselves  for  the  time  being,  regardless  of 
ultimate  vexation  ;  and  what  is  worse,  it  is 
equally  probable,  that  they  would  still  continue 
to  charge  the  miseries  of  their  own  disappoint- 
ment upon  the  whole  female  sex.  Nor  indeed 
would  it  be  altogether  politic,  should  we 
succeed  in  dissuading  them  from  this  generous 
system  of  protecting  the  helpless  and  incapa- 
ble ;  because  a  heavy  burden  would  then  be  left 
upon  society,  of  which  it  is  now  in  a  great  ; 
measure  relieved,  by  the  preference  of  the 
stronger  sex  falling  so  charitably  and  so  often 
upon  the  weakest  of  the  weak.  It  is  only  on 
behalf  of  the  rising  generation  that  this  prefer- 
ence is  to  be  regretted ;  and  the  more  so, 
that  a  strong  stimulus  is  now  withheld,  which 
ought  to  be  thrown  on  the  side  of  mental  and 
moral  cultivation  ;  for  it  is  of  no  use  attempt- 
ing to  draw  a  veil  over  the  truth,  that  so  long 


THE  MOTHERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


&s  women  see  their  ignorance  and  folly  not 
unacceptable  to  men,  they  will  never  strenu- 
ously endeavor  to  be  wiser  than  they  are. 

Those  luckless  womrn  who  find  themselves 
placed  at  the  head  of  a  family  which  they  are 
expected  to  govern,  without  ever  having 
learned,  or  even  thought  of,  any  mode  of 
governing  themselves,  must  be  left  almost 
entirely  out  of  consideration  in  pursuing  the 
course  of  reflection  which  is  intended  to 
occupy  these  pages.  It  is  not  certainly  from 
choice  that  such  pitiable  creatures  are  placed 
beyond  the  pale  of  sympathy,  for  of  all  human 
beings,  the  mother  who  is  expected  to  con- 
duct a  family  without  this  preparation,  has 
the  most  need  of  help  from  others.  But  the 
question  naturally  arises,  when  we  think  of 
such  women — "  How  is  it  possible  to  help 
them  ?"  The  wayward  whose  will  is  at  fault, 
and  the  simply  uninformed  whose  judgment 
has  never  been  rightly  directed,  may  both  be 
assisted,  when  we  labor  to  convince  them  of 
their  errors  ;  but  the  naturally  weak — the  in- 
capable— what  is  to  be  done  with  them  ?  No- 
thing, that  I  am  aware  of,  but  to  commend 
them  to  the  tender  mercies  of  those  protectors, 
who,  having  placed  them  in  situations  for  which 
they  were  not  fitted,  are  doubly  bound  not  to 
leave  them  to  bear  unaided  the  consequences 
of  an  imprudence  not  wholly  their  own. 

It  is  one  feature  in  the  case  under  consid- 
eration, and  by  no  means  a  hopeful  one,  that 
notwithstanding  all  the  evils  arising  out  of 
the  unfitness  of  silly  women  to  undertake  the 
duties  of  wives  and  mothers,  there  still  pre- 
vails among  men  a  popular  outcry  against 
women  of  an  opposite  character,  as  if  to 
possess  talent,  was  necessarily  to  be  guilty 
of  pretension ;  or,  as  if  to  be  imbecile,  was 
necessarily  to  be  amiable.  Happily  for  men, 
and  women  too,  but  more  happily  for  infancy 
than  either,  there  is  a  wide  range  of  intellect 
between  the  two  extremes  of  wisdom  and  of 
folly;  and  it  is  to  this  class — to  women  of 
competent  minds,  desirous  of  turning  their 
abilities  to  the  best  account,  that  I  would 
venture  chiefly  to  address  myself;  for  if,  on 
the  one  hand,  the  absolutely  weak  would  be 
incapable  of  profiting  by  such  hints  as  I  may 


be  able  to  suggest,  those  who  arc  already  wise, 
and  consequently  fitter  than  myself  to  discuss 
the  important  topics  now  under  consideration, 
will,  I  hope,  be  willing  to  pardon  me  for 
transcribing,  for  the  sake  of  others,  what  they 
already  know. 

To  persons  of  ordinary  intellect  then,  to 
persons  of  fair  and  candid  minds,  but  chiefly 
to  such  as  feel  their  own  deficiencies,  and 
would  be  glad  to  profit  by  the  experience  and 
observation  of  others,  I  would,  in  the  true 
spirit  of  charity,  submit  these  pages,  because 
it  is  to  such  I  believe  that  the  first  experience 
of  a  mother's  life  will  have  many  anxious 
feelings  intermingled  with  its  joys. 

It  is  among  this  class  especially,  that  I  have 
imagined  the  first  thoughts  of  a  mother  to 
wander  back  to  her  own  childhood,  and  to 
take  a  serious  and  impartial  survey  of  her 
own  past  life ;  to  mark  where  she  has  fallen 
short,  or  gone  astray,  by  what  temptations 
she  has  been  most  frequently  overcome,  and 
which  have  been  the  weakest  points  in  her 
own  character.  But  above  all,  I  have  ima- 
gined that  the  Christian  mother  would  by 
prayer,  and  heartfelt  dedication,  commend 
her  child  to  the  care  and  guidance  of  its 
Heavenly  Father,  in  the  hope  that  both  it 
and  its  earthly  parents  might  begin  a  new 
life  more  strictly  devoted  to  his  service  and 
his  glory. 

It  is  scarcely  possible  to  imagine  a  really 
impartial  and  heart-searching  review  of  the 
past  to  be  entered  into,  by  one  whose  mind 
has  ever  been  seriously  impressed  with  the 
nature  and  importance  of  religious  truth, 
without  a  desire  arising  to  make  the  kind  of 
dedication  here  alluded  to;  but  it  is  one  of 
the  constant  besetments  even  of  the  rightly 
intentioned,  and  often  of  the  truly  convinced, 
to  put  off  this  great  work  until  some  vaguely 
anticipated  era  in  our  existence  shall  have 
marked  the  season  of  dedication  with  pecu- 
liar solemnity,  or  stamped  the  resolution  with 
additional  force.  How  often  this  era  proves 
in  the  end  to  be  the  hour  of  irremediable 
sickness,  it  is  not  my  business  here  to  in- 
quire ;  but  certainly  if  the  possibility  of  near 
and  awful  death,  if  the  preparation  for  an  j 


A  MOTHER'S  FIRST  THOUGHTS. 


'  event  which  in  many  cases  has  proved  but  a 
short  passage  to  the  grave — if  a  providential 
and  merciful  escape  from  the  dangers  of  that 
trying  hour — and  if  the  important  reality  of 
entering  at  once  as  it  were  upon  a  new  and 
twofold  existence — if  all  these  circumstances 
combined  be  insufficient  to  constitute  a  \  era 
so  important  as  that  which  is  required  for 
the  date  of  a  solemn  dedication  of  the  heart 
and  the  life  to  God,  it  is  scarcely  likely  that 
human  experience  will  ever  afford  the  oppor- 
tunity desired,  and  the  inquiry  necessarily 
follows  in  such  a  case,  whether  it  is  really 
desired  at  all. 

It  is  by  no  means  an  unfrequent  case,  that 
as  young  people  grow  up,  and  find  them- 
selves either  not  quite  so  clever,  or  not  quite 
so  good  as  they  expected  and  wished  to  be, 
they  reflect  either  secretly  or  openly  upon  the 
management  of  their  parents,  who  they  be- 
lieve might  have  made  them  better  than  they 
are.  It  is  quite  possible  too  that  their  pa- 
rents may  have  been  in  fault ;  and  that 
either  from  their  own  discrimination,  or  from 
the  general  advance  of  society  towards  a 
more  enlightened  state,  they  do  actually  see 
the  defects  of  their  own  training,  as  those 
defects  begin  to  tell  upon  their  characters  and 
conduct  in  riper  years.  All  who  have  been 
led  to  think  seriously  on  this  subject,  have 
probably  felt  this  ;  but  it  is  not  all  who  have 
an  opportunity  of  showing  how  such  defects 
may  be  remedied  by  training  up  others  in  a 
happier  and  wiser  manner. 

Again,  we  are  all  more  or  less  beguiled 
into  the  belief  that  with  us  it  is  too  late  to 
make  any  serious  alteration  in  the  habits 
which  mark  our  private  lives.  Indeed,  the 
fact  that  they  are  habits,  seems  to  stamp 
them  with  a  kind  of  excusability,  if  I  may 
be  allowed  the  expression  ;  though  we  lament 
over  them  in  tones  of  contrition  before  our 
friends,  and  even  believe  in  our  own  sincerity 
when  we  pray  to  have  them  forgiven.  But 
if  we  can  thus  excuse  ourselves  a  few  se- 
cretly cherished  faults,  and  if  we  are  some- 
times content  to  pursue  our  earthly  pilgrim- 
age under  the  pressure  of  the  burden  of 
which  we  stiil  complain,  surely  the  mother, 


in  contemplating  the  future  character  of  her 
child,  will  not  allow  herself  to  suppose  that 
the  same  plea  will  be  available  here.  No ; 
neither  ignorance  nor  habit,  those  two  strong- 
holds of  the  human  soul  under  which  it  so 
often  takes  refuge,  fondly  believing  that  they 
will  cover  a  multitude  of  sins ;  neither  the 
one,  nor  the  other,  will  serve  the  mother's 
purpose  now.  What  she  has  condemned  in 
the  management  of  her  parents,  she  is  bound 
the  more  scrupulously  to  avoid  in  her  own — 
what  she  has  grown  too  old  to  correct  in 
herself,  she  has  no  excuse  for  not  preventing 
in  her  child. 

Beyond  this,  there  is  mixed  up  with  many 
of  the  duties  of  advanced  experience,  a  spirit 
of  heaviness,  a  sense  of  depression  owing  to 
the  many  failures  of  youth's  golden  hopes — 
a  fainting  of  the  soul  under  the  manifold  con- 
flicts it  has  had  to  wage,  which,  though  by 
no  means  beyond  the  reach  of  religious  con- 
solation to  soothe  and  to  alleviate,  has  a 
deadening  effect  upon  the  exercise  of  ener- 
gy, both  in  worldly  and  in  spiritual  things. — 
Happily  for  the  young  life  over  which  the 
mother  watches,  it  knows  no  shadow  from 
such  clouds  as  these.  Youth  enters  freshly 
and  gaily  upon  its  untried  career,  and  not 
all  the  failures  of  the  thousands,  and  tens 
of  thousands  who  have  already  erred  and 
strayed  from  the  right  path,  have  power  to 
damp  the  ardor  and  the  hope  with  which  it 
eagerly  pursues  each  object  of  desire.  And 
how  beautiful  and  encouraging  to  the  time- 
worn  parent  is  this  fresh  spring  of  existence 
when  her  own  has  lost  its  elasticity  and 
power !  To  her  it  may  sometimes  appear 
that  scarcely  any  thing  in  the  world  is  worth 
the  effort  necessary  to  obtain  it  But  to  her 
child  how  different !  Supply  but  a  sufficient 
motive,  and  the  energy  is  there  ;  point  out  a 
course  of  action,  and  the  impulse  is  alive 
and  present ;  direct  to  the  attainment  of  an 
object,  and  the  question  never  arises,  as  it 
does  in  after  life,  whether  it  is  worth  while. — 
Why  then  should  the  mother  not  rejoice, 
when  she  has  this  new  energy,  this  strong 
impulse,  and  this  unquestioning  ardor  to 
work  with,  in  preparing  for  the  vicissitudes 


10 


THE  MOTHERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


as  well  as  the  enjoyments  of  after  life  1 — 
Why  should  the  mother  not  rejoice,  when 
all  that  has  been  exhausted  in  her  own  fee- 
ble frame,  all  that  has  been  extinguished  in 
her  own  waning  mind,  arises  fresh  and  vig- 
orous beneath  her  hand,  and  shoots  forth  in- 
to a  new  and  hopeful  existence,  so  bound  up 
with  her  own,  that  while  she  gives  direction 
to  each  faculty,  she  may  also  derive  encour- 
agement and  gladness  from  its  healthy  and 
successful  exercise  ? 

There  are  then  many  causes,  both  in  rea- 
son and  in  nature,  why  the  mother  should 
rejoice  ;  and  perhaps  it  is  this  very  rebound- 
ing of  the  heart  back  to  all,  and  more  than 
all  it  has  ever  enjoyed  in  life  and  love,  that 
constitutes  in  some  measure  the  temptation 
to  which  an  affectionate  nature  yields,  so  as 
to  rest  satisfied  with  the  mere  bodily  health 
of  a  fondly-treasured  infant,  with  the  amuse- 
ments of  the  nursery,  and  with  the  first  ca- 
resses of  childhood,  instead  of  looking  beyond 
the  present  hour,  or  regarding  it  as  a  season 
of  preparation  for  a  future  day.  Thus  time 
is  trifled  on.  To  avoid  contradiction,  and 
consequent  distress,  becomes  the  mother's 
only  thought.  The  occupation  of  the  hand 
seems  to  demand  her  whole  attention,  as 
another  and  another  little  body  springs  up  to 
require  her  care  ;  and  the  mind,  the  temper — 
in  fact,  the  whole  moral  being  is  thus  set  aside 
as  a  thing  to  be  taken  up  again  at  some  future 
time,  when  the  child  shall  be  sent  to  school, 
or  committed  to  the  care  of  a  governess,  to 
be  made  wise  and  good. 

Now,  it  is  quite  evident  to  a  mother  of  the 
meanest  capacity,  that  if  the  food  of  her  in- 
fant was  to  be  withheld  or  rendered  un- 
wholesome for  a  single  day,  the  body  of  the 
child  would  suffer ;  and  it  is  a  fact  which 
cannot  be  too  forcibly  impressed  upon  all 
mothers,  that  the  mind,  even  in  its  infant 
state,  is  deriving  nourishment,  either  of  a 
healthy  or  an  unhealthy  nature,  from  every 
thing  around  it.  Let  the  different  effect  up- 
on the  spirits  of  a  child  between  a  dull  and  a 
cheerful  nurse  be  duly  considered,  and  this 
fact  will  appear  more  plain.  I  am  not  absurd 
enough  to  suppose  that  the  mind  of  an  infant 


must  be  treated  like  that  of  a  mature  and  ra- 
tional being.  All  I  would  maintain  is,  that 
there  are  little  dawnings  of  intelligence  at  a 
very  early  age,  indications  of  temper,  and 
symptoms  of  peculiar  temperament,  which 
ought  to  be  watched,  and  either  cherished 
or  restrained,  with  as  much  assiduity  as  is 
generally  bestowed  upon  the  animal  frame. 

It  is  common,  too,  with  mothers  of  the 
humblest  capacity,  as  well  as  with  the  more 
enlightened,  to  observe  with  the  most  scru- 
tinizing attention  the  bodily  health  of  their 
children,  believing  that  even  where  no  dis- 
ease exists,  there  may  still  be  tendencies  in 
the  constitution,  and  liabilities  to  certain  ail- 
ments, which  maternal  love  is  ever  quick  to 
detect  in  their  first  appearance,  and  which 
the  mother  seldom  spares  either  time  or  pains 
to  arrest  in  their  progress. 

In  a  manner  not  the  less  certain,  because 
it  is  less  palpable,  does  the  human  mind  bring 
along  with  it  seeds  of  disease,  individual  ten- 
dencies, and  peculiarities  of  nature,  certainly 
not  less  important  than  those  which  belong 
more  especially  to  the  bodily  frame.  All  these 
ought  to  be  the  care  of  the  mother,  to  search 
for,  to  detect,  and  to  turn  into  a  healthy 
course ;  for  as  in  her  care  of  the  animal  frame, 
it  is  for  thfe  future  that  she  watches,  toils,  and 
labors,  in  order  that  her  offspring  may  be 
healthy,  active,  and  fit  for  all  the  useful  pur- 
poses of  life ;  so  it  is  for  the  future,  and  for 
one  which  extends  far  beyond  what  the  body 
needs  to  be  prepared  for,  that  she  has  to  cul- 
tivate the  mind — the  immortal  nature  of  her 
child. 

It  is  not  for  any  of  the  purposes  of  to-day, 
or  even  of  the  coming  morrow,  that  the  in- 
fant is  practised  in  the  art  of  placing  one  foot 
before  another,  as  in  the  act  of  walking.  It 
is  not  for  to-day  that  the  child  is  encouraged 
to  use  its  muscles,  to  grasp,  and  to  appro- 
priate whatever  is  within  its  reach,  or  at  least 
whatever  may  be  laid  hold  of  without  injury. 
If  the  present  time  was  all  we  had  to  con- 
sider, most  assuredly  the  less  grasping,  and 
the  less  appropriation,  the  more  easy  and 
pleasant  would  be  the  office  of  the  nurse. 
Instead,  however,  of  consulting  her  own  ease, 


A  MOTHER'S  FIRST  THOUGHTS. 


the  mother  devotes  herself  with  unremitting 
assiduity  to  the  cultivation  of  the  bodily  facul- 
ties of  her  infant,  so  that  none  of  its  organic 
functions  may  suffer  from  the  want  of  exer- 
cise. If  she  discovers  the  slightest  tendency 
to  the  contraction  of  a  muscle,  or  the  distor- 
tion of  a  limb,  her  whole  being  is  absorbed  by 
apprehensions  of  the  most  distressing  kind, 
and  all  her  energies  are  directed  to  the  means 
of  averting  the  evils  she  anticipates  for  the 
future.  Is  it  thus,  I  would  ask,  on  the  first 
discovery  of  a  tendency  to  impatience,  to  con- 
tradiction, or  to  revenge  7  It  is  but  too  prob- 
able that  every  positive  exhibition  of  these 
wrong  tendencies  is  followed  by  an  act  of 
punishment  proportioned  to  the  good  or  evil 
temper  of  the  nurse,  just  upon  the  old-fashion- 
ed principle  that  naughty  children  must  be 
whipped  ;  but  as  to  the  philosophy  of  such 
punishment,  as  well  might  a  crooked  limb  be 
forcibly  set  straight  every  time  it  was  seen 
out  of  place,  as  the  perverse  child  be  simply 
punished  every  time  it  did  wrong. 

There  is  no  woman  blind  enough  to  sup- 
pose that  in  the  case  of  the  body,  mere  mo- 
mentary correction  will  be  of  any  lasting,  use  ; 
and  why  then  should  the  mind,  or  in  other 
words,  the  moral  character  of  the  child,  be 
treated  with  less  reasoning,  and  less  calcula- 
tion, than  its  animal  frame] 

It  is  possible,  however,  so  far  to  extend  our 
ideas  into  the  future,  as  to  lose  sight  of  the 
intermediate  space  between  the  cradle  and 
the  grave.  And  where  the  mother  is  so  defi- 
cient in  knowledge  of  the  world,  and  of  hu- 
man nature  in  general,  as  to  be  a  stranger  to 
that  wide  theatre  of  stirring  interests  which 
we  call  human  life,  it  must  of  course  be  left 
to  circumstances  to  mould  the  characters  of 
her  children.  The  result  of  which,  in  all 
probability,  will  be,  that  the  accidents  of  life 
to  them  will  be  so  various  and  unexpected, 
as  to  surprise  them  into  acting  very  different- 
ly from  what  their  parents  had  intended. 

We  cannot  but  suppose,  however,  that 
most  women  educated  under  ordinary  circum- 
stances, will  have  learned  something  of  the 
world  before  being  placed  in  the  situation  of 
mothers ;  and  out  of  such  knowledge  arises 


a  very  natural  and  suitable  inquiry,  how  the 
children  under  their  care  shall  be  best  pre- 
pared fo:  entering  upon  the  world  such  as  it 
is  ? — not  merely  for  becoming  portions  of  the 
general  mass,  for  mixing  themselves  in  with 
the  elements  of  discord  too  frequently  found 
there,  nor  even  for  swelling  the  tide  of  popu- 
lar feeling  whatever  it  may  be.  All  this  they 
would  learn  too  readily,  if  left  to  take  their 
own  course.  But  the  inquiry  a  mother  has 
to  make  is,  what  are  the  prevailing  evils  now 
existing  in  the  world ;  what  are  the  good 
tendencies  of  the  present  state  of  society  ;  and 
by  what  means  can  the  mind  be  so  moulded, 
and  the  habits  so  formed,  that  the  child  going 
through  the  process  of  education,  shall  be  best 
enabled  to  assist  in  counteracting  the  one, 
and  helping  forward  the  other  1 

These  are  serious  inquiries,  well  worthy  a 
mother's  attention,  and  requiring,  in  order  to 
act  upon  them  to  any  useful  purpose,  much 
of  that  observation  and  tact  which  has  been 
already  urged  upon  women  at  an  earlier 
stage  of  their  experience.  And  here  I  would 
venture  to  observe,  that  every  thing  which 
appeared  to  me  essential  to  a  woman  holding 
the  relative  situation  of  a  daughter,  appeared 
so  more  especially  when  contemplating  the 
same  character  in  that  of  a  wife  or  a  mother; 
nor  could  any  faculty  of  the  mind  be  recom- 
mended in  its  exercise  to  a  young  and  single 
woman,  which  might  not  be  made  a  hundred- 
fold more  valuable  to  her  as  a  mother. 

Whence  then  can  have  arisen  that  most  ab- 
surd and  infatuated  notion,  that  woman,  while 
young  and  unmarried,  may  with  propriety  cul- 
tivate her  mind  and  improve  her  character  to 
almost  any  extent ;  but  that  as  a  wife  she  has 
no  need  to  advance  any  farther,  and  as  a 
mother  she  will  do  very  well  if  she  can  but 
superintend  the  dressing  and  undressing  of  a 
baby  !  If,  as  regards  the  female  sex,  there 
should  ever  have  been  ground  for  the  estab- 
lishment of  so  erroneous  a  belief,  one  would 
suppose  that  the  simple  fact  of  mothers  hav- 
ing the  training  of  boys,  as  well  as  girls,  com- 
mitted to  their  care,  might  sometimes  startle 
them  into  a  consciousness  of  the  vast  amount 
of  responsibility  resting  upon  them.  That 


12 


THE  MOTHERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


single  thought,  so  alarming  in  its  spirit-stirring 
interest, — that  all  the  statesmen  of  the  rising 
generation,  all  the  ministers  of  religion,  all 
public  and  private  gentlemen,  as  well  as  all 
men  of  business,  mechanics,  and  laborers  of 
every  description,  will  have  received,  as  re- 
gards intellectual  and  moral  character,  their 
first  bias,  and  often  their  strongest  and  their 
last,  from  the  training  and  the  influence  of  a 
mother,  is  a  consideration  which  cannot  be 
too  deeply  impressed  even  upon  the  minds 
of  the  young,  for  it  is  the  young  more  espe- 
cially who  have  it  in  their  power  to  profit  by 
such  thoughts ;  and  though  none  could  be 
more  unwilling  than  the  writer  of  these  pages, 
to  fill  the  imagination  of  a  girl  with  premature 
ideas  of  her  own  importance,  in  reference  to 
the  future,  yet  I  still  believe,  that  a  prospec- 
tive view  of  their  own  responsibilities,  prop- 
erly placed  before  them,  would  tend  very 
much  to  counteract  the  injurious  effects  of 
those  trifling  and  vulgar  anticipations  of  court- 
ship and  marriage,  which  too  frequently  in- 
terfere with  the  intellectual  improvement  of 
the  young,  and  effectually  destroy  the  true 
dignity  of  woman. 

We  know  that  the  further  a  nation  ad- 
vances in  civilization,  in  science,  and  in  gen- 
eral knowledge,  the  more  intelligence,  wisdom, 
and  forethought  is  required  of  those  who  hold 
the  reins  of  government,  and  direct  the  man- 
agement of  institutions  for  the  public  good ; 
and  what  nobler  ambition  can  fill  the  hearts 
of  British  women,  than  that  the  next  genera- 
tion of  their  countrymen  should  be  better 
grounded  in  the  principles  of  true  knowledge 
than  the  last?  But,  striking  and  impressive 
as  this  idea  justly  appears  in  its  immediate 
import,  that  of  the  education  of  daughters  is 
at  least  as  much  so  in  its  remoter  tendency, 
because  it  is  to  women  that  we  still  must 
look  for  the  training  of  future  generations, 
and  the  formation  of  characters  whose  names 
may  be  surrounded  by  a  glory,  or  stamp- 
ed with  a  blot,  in  the  history  of  ages  yet  to 
come. 

And  are  not  these  profound  and  stirring 


thoughts  for  the  mother,  in  her  hours  of  re- 
tirement and  repose  ?  The  human  mind, 
naturally  prone  to  wander  beyond  the  sphere 
of  actual  knowledge,  becomes  lost  in  a  cloud 
of  vague  uncertainties,  whenever  it  takes  too 
bold  a  flight ;  but  here  is  a  field  for  noble  as- 
pirations, in  which  it  is  not  only  lawful,  but 
perfectly  reasonable,  to  indulge  ;  and  not  the 
loftiest  ambition  that  ever  fired  a  hero's  breast, 
could  be  so  ardent  or  so  high  as  that  which 
it  is  both  natural  and  right  for  the  fond  mo- 
ther to  cherish  in  her  "  heart  of  hearts."  Yes, 
it  is  a  great  and  glorious  thought,  that  the 
being  whose  young  life  is  now  so  tenderly 
bound  up  with  hers,  that  not  a  chord  of  one 
can  thrill  with  the  minutest  touch  of  feeling, 
but  an  answering  tone  is  echoed  by  the  other ; 
that  this  frail  and  helpless  being,  so  delicate, 
so  pure,  and  so  beautiful  to  her,  may  one  day 
be  swelling  the  ranks  of  the  church-militant 
on  earth,  and  may  eventually  join  the  anthems 
of  triumphant  joy  which  celebrate  the  admis- 
sion of  the  saints  to  their  eternal  rest  in 
heaven. 

Thus  far  I  have  purposely  confined  my 
observations  chiefly  to  a  mother's  tluruglils. 
Beyond  this,  the  outer  court  of  the  temple  of 
maternal  love,  lies  the  inner  sanctuary  of  a 
mother's  feelings,  whose  holy  secrets  no  in- 
experienced hand  should  presume  to  touch. 
It  must  be  observed,  however,  that  within 
this  sanctuary,  and  out  of  these  holy  secrets, 
arises  the  natural  spring  of  all  her  influence, 
and  of  all  her  power.  Assisted  only  by  the 
force  of  reason  and  of  principle,  a  stranger 
might  conduct  the  steps  of  childhood  to  ma- 
turity as  well  as  the  mother  herself;  but  in 
the  maternal  bosom,  as  has  already  been  ob- 
served, is  lodged  an  instinct  stronger  than 
any  other  which  is  associated  with  animal 
existence  ;  and  the  tendency  of  these  pages 
will  be  to  show,  that  wherever  there  is  a 
strong  feeling,  there  is,  if  rightly  exercised, 
and  under  favorable  circumstances,  a  proper- 
tionate  degree  of  power, — and  that  wherever 
there  is  power,  there  is  an  equal  amount  of 
responsibility. 


AUTHORITY,  INFLUENCE,  AND  EXAMPLE. 


13 


CHAPTER  II. 

AUTHORITY,  INFLUENCE,  AND  EXAMPLE. 

IT  is  a  great  point  gained,  in  studying  the 
true  "  science  of  life,"  to  know  when  to  be 
little  and  when  to  be  great.  In  venturing  to 
write  upon  the  duties  of  woman  as  a  wife,  I 
have  been  charged  with  wishing  to  place  her 
in  too  low  a  scale.  Perhaps  I  have  not  been 
so  fortunate  as  to  make  my  ideas  fully  under- 
stood ;  for — although  I  still  think  that,  as  a 
wife,  woman  should  place  herself,  instead  of 
running  the  ri^k  of  being  placed,  in  a  second- 
ary position — as  a  mother,  I  do  not  see  how 
it  is  possible  for  her  to  be  too  dignified,  or  to 
be  treated  with  too  much  respect. 

Yet  it  is  of  the  utmost  importance  to  those 
who  undertake  the  management  of  children, 
that  they  should  have  clear  ideas  of  the  dif- 
ference betwixt  authority  and  influence,  and 
of  the  necessary  dependence  of  both  upon 
example. 

Although,  strictly  speaking,  there  can  be 
no  such  thing  as  authority  without  influence, 
yet  when  we  speak  of  authority  simply  as 
such,  we  mean  nothing  more  than  that  there 
exists,  for  the  time  being,  a  power  in  one 
party  to  enforce  a  command,  and  a  willing- 
ness in  the  other  to  obey.     There  are  kind 
and  gentle  mothers  who  think  that  authority 
has  littl'e  or  nothing  to  do  with  the  education 
of  their  children  ;  and  there  are,  on  the  other 
hand,  persons  educated  in  the  old  schools 
who  consider  authority  as  the  only  instru- 
ment they  have  to  work  with,  in  producing 
the  effect  which  mental  and  moral  discipline 
are  desired  to  produce  upon  the  young.     I 
is  common  with  individuals  of  the  latter  clasi 
to  speak  of  "  breaking  the  natural  will,"  as 
if  the  will  was  an  excrescence  which  had  to 
be  removed,  or  a  branch  which  had  to  be 
lopped  off,  before  any  good  could  beexpecte 
to  be  done.     Hence  those  horrible  whipping 
of  former  times,  those  shuttings  up  in  dark 
chambers,  and  those  other  varieties  of  menta 
and  bodily  punishment, — all  which  had  abou 
as   much   efficacy  in  softening  the  natura 
temper  and  subduing  the  spirit  of  pride,  a 
the  sprinkling  on  of  water  has  in  the  extin 


uishing  of  burning  coals.  Indeed,  one  can 
carcely  imagine  any  thing  more  congenial  to 
formation  of  desperate  and  malignant 
esolutions,  than  to  be  forcibly  snatched  up, — 
s  some  of  us  can  remember  to  have  been, — 
lirust,  struggling,  into  a  dark  and  unoccupied 
oom,  and  there  locked  up,  and  left  ;  so  that, 
cream  as  we  would,  (and  few,  under  such 
;ircumstances,  would  not  do  their  best,)  the 
=ound  of  our  distress  was  beyond  the  reach 
of  any  human  ear. 

Happily  for  the  human  race,  however,  these 
imes  are  past,  and  the  too  severe  application 
of  direct  and  unsparing  punishment  is  not 
;he  fashion  of  the  present  day.  I  say  happily 
br  the  human  race,  because  it  is  not  possible 
br  the  most  unbounded  indulgence,  as  a  sys- 
:em,  to  produce  consequences  so  lamentable 
n  their  general  effects,  as  a  system  of  harsh- 
ness and  severity  practised  upon  the  tender 
and  susceptible  nature  of  youth.  To  those 
kind  and  gentle  mothers  who  consider  mere 
authority  as  too  stern  an  instrument  to  work 
with  in  the  training  up  of  their  children,  we 
must  then  in  justice  grant,  that  theirs  is  the 
lesser  evil  of  the  two. 

Where  this  evil  on  the  mother's  part  arises 
from  excessive  tenderness,  and  unwillingness 
to  give  pain,  it  will  perhaps  be  a  little  start- 
ling to  hear  it  asserted,  that  if  she  set  herself 
to  devise  a  plan  for  ensuring  the  future 
misery  of  her  child,  next  in  degree  of  effi- 
cacy, though  widely  different  in  nature,  to 
that  which  has  already  been  alluded  to,  she 
could  not  find  one  more  effectual  than  that 
of  neglecting  to  instil  into  its  mind  the  neces- 
sity of  implicit  obedience.  Once  convinced 
of  this  necessity,  which  it  easily  may  be,  by 
never  being  allowed  to  call  in  question  the 
authority  of  those  under  whose  care  it  is 
placed,  the  child  grows  up  without  the  least 
idea  that  the  rule  of  obedience  is  a  hardship 
or  in  fact  without  any  idea  of  obedience  at  all 
for  it  submits  habitually  to  rightful  authority 
just  as  we  submit  every  day  to  those  circum 
etances  over  which  we  have  no  control.  In 
this  manner  the  habit  of  submitting  the  natu 
ral  will  is  imperceptibly  acquired,  a  world  o 
fruitless  and  painful  contention  is  avoided 


14 


THE  MOTHERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


and  the  child  really  enjoys  the  advantage  of 
being  constantly  under  the  direction  of  wis- 
dom, forethought,  and  experience,  superior  to 
its  own. 

The  maintenance  of  this  unyielding  au- 
thority on  the  part  of  the  mother,  requires,  it 
would  seem,  some  little  tact  and  skill ;  for 
some  who  are  the  most  imperative  in  their 
commands,  are  in  reality  the  least  obeyed. 
That  hasty  slaps,  loud  talking,  and  harsh 
words,  have  nothing  whatever  to  do  with  the 
system  of  discipline  here  recommended,  it  is 
scarcely  necessary  to  say  ;  neither  that  weak- 
est and  most  fruitless  sort  of  pleading,  which 
consists  of  a  perpetual  repetition  of  "  Now 
do,"  and  "Now  don't;"  and  still  less  do 
threatenings  and  bribes  enter  into  the  scheme 
proposed ;  but  a  steady  and  consistent  meth- 
od begun  in  early  infancy,  and  never  on  any 
occasion  whatever  departed  from,  of  requir- 
ing obedience  to  the  parent's  wishes,  simply 
as  such,  accompanied  by  a  strict  regard  to 
clearness,  consistency,  and  truth,  in  making 
those  wishes  known. 

To  a  child  trained  up  in  this  manner,  obe- 
dience is  so  easy,  that  it  no  more  thinks  of 
questioning  the  mother's  right  to  direct  its  ac- 
tions, than  it  quarrels  with  the  nurse  because 
she  stretches  out  her  arms  to  prevent  its  fall- 
ing. Nor  is  there  more  severity  in  the  exercise 
of  such  authority,  than  in  the  protecting  care 
which  preserves  an  infant  from  corporeal 
harm.  Ninety-nine  out  of  every  hundred  of 
the  whims  and  wishes  of  a  child,  would,  if  it 
were  possible  to  gratify  them,  be  productive 
of  more  pain  than  pleasure  ;  and  thus  it  is 
necessary,  even  for  its  happiness,  that  they 
should  be  subjected  to  the  decision  of  anoth- 
er. Let  the  little  hero,  before  he  is  able  to 
walk,  thrust  away  the  hand  of  the  nuree  as 
he  will,  she  suffers  no  symptoms  of  vexation 
on  his  part  to  prevent  her  necessary  assist- 
ance, because  she  knows,  and  in  this  she 
judges  for  herself  without  consulting  him, 
that  the  child  would  be  more  hurt  by  a  fall, 
than  by  being  the  subject  of  a  mere  moment- 
ary vexation.  And  the  mother  knows,  or 
rather  she  ought  to  know,  that  upon  the 
same  principle  her  child  would  suffer  more 


by  discovering  that  he  had  the  power  to  con- 
tradict and  oppose  his  mother's  wishes,  than 
by  being  deprived  of  some  little  gratification 
of  fancy  or  desire,  which  in  all  probability 
would  please  him  only  for  a  moment 

By  the  habit  of  obedience  too,  when  prac- 
tised towards  a  judicious  and  consistent 
mother,  the  child  soon  learns,  as  if  by  a  sort 
of  instinct,  what  is  the  general  nature  of  its 
mother's  wishes,  so  that  it  will  often  combine 
the  pleasure  of  anticipating  them,  with  the 
duty  of  compliance. 

All  weak  persons  unacquainted  with  the 
world,  and  disappointed  in  their  own  experi- 
ence, are  naturally  miserable  when  unsup- 
ported, and  left  to  themselves.  What  then 
must  be  the  suffering  of  a  child  whose  own 
will  is  its  only  law,  and  who  has  not  learned 
what  is  right  and  wrong,  nor  even  what  is 
possible  and  impossible  to  be  had,  or  done  ! 
We  see  its  sufferings  written  on  its  anxious, 
irritated  countenance.  We  behold  in  its 
manner,  alternately  irresolute  and  determin- 
ed, the  caprice  and  waywardness  by  which 
it  is  disturbed.  We  hear  the  agony  of  its 
disappointment  after  each  successive  attempt 
to  do  what  was  impracticable,  or  what  was 
fraught  with  danger  and  pain ;  and  we  ask 
of  the  mother,  in  common  kindness,  to  es- 
tablish for  her  child  a  rule  of  safety  and  of 
peace,  and  to  let  that  rule  be — implicit  obedi- 
ence to  her  own  authority. 

It  is  distressing,  even  to  the  casual  ob- 
server, to  mark,  in  the  impatient,  feverish, 
irritable  character  of  such  a  child,  the  wretch- 
edness which  is  preparing  for  it  in  after  life  ; 
and  not  in  after  life  alone,  for  each  day  is 
fraught  with  suffering  to  the  little  being  who 
is  thus  allowed  to  be  a  law  unto  itself,  before 
it  has  the  means  of  understanding  what  is 
right  or  safe,  pleasant  or  possible,  to  possess. 
Yes,  we  can  many  of  us  feelingly  attest  what 
it  was  to  spend  a  day — and  happy  for  those 
with  whom  a  day  was  all — in  company  with 
the  child  who  was  suffered  to  crush  the  hot 
patty  into  its  mouth,  to  make  tea  for  its  mam- 
ma, and  consequently  to  pour  the  scalding 
water  upon  its  breast,  to  climb  the  edge  of 
the  round  table  upon  which  soup  had  been 


AUTHORITY,  INFLUENCE,  AND  EXAMPLE. 


15 


placed,  to  burn  its  fingers  by  roasting  its  own 
apple  at  the  fire,  to  eat  more  at  every  meal 
than  it  had  power  to  digest,  and  to  allay  the 
cravings  of  a  diseased  appetite  by  having 
one  hand  perpetually  supplied  with  sugar- 
candy,  and  the  other  with  sweet-cake  ;  to 
finish  all,  by  sitting  up  late  at  night  because 
it  did  not  choose  to  go  to  bed.  Nor  need  we 
add  to  this  catalogue  those  offences  of  which 
the  child  takes  no  cognizance,  such  as  gin- 
gerbread stuck  upon  the  visiter's  chair,  and 
butter  smeared  upon  her  dress ;  nor  those 
dreadful  eruptions  of  passions  and  distress 
which  take  place  whenever  offences  abound, 
so  that  the  parents,  or  perhaps  an  irritated 
father,  thinks  it  necessary  to  correct  the  child, 
as  it  is  called.  Neither  is  it  necessary  to 
dwell  upon  the  multiplication  of  these  evils 
where  the  family  is  numerous,  and  confusion 
is  consequently  worse  confounded.  I  would 
only  add,  that  to  all  these,  and  more  a  hun- 
dred-fold, the  fond  mother  has  subjected  her 
children,  from  failing  to  enforce  the  simple 
and  pleasant  duty  of  implicit  obedience,  which 
would  have  made  all  things  comparatively 
easy.  Not  that  I  am  visionary  enough  to 
assert  that  wherever  authority  is  consistently 
maintained  there  will  be  at  all  times,  and  on 
the  instant,  a  willing  obedience,  with  an  ab- 
sence of  wrong  tempers,  feverish  ailments, 
and  perverseness  of  disposition  ;  but  I  am 
confident  in  asserting,  that  the  greatest  kind- 
ness we  can  do  to  a  helpless*  ignorant,  and 
inexperienced  being,  is  to  furnish  it  with  a 
guide  upon  which  it  may  safely  and  implicitly 
depend,  and  that  this  guide  to  a  child  ought 
to  be  the  undisputed  authority  of  its  parents, 
or  of  those  whom  they  may  deem  worthy  of 
being  deputed  to  act  in  their  stead. 

Then  again  it  is  prompt  obedience  that  is 
required,  for  no  other  will  answer  the  end  of 
producing  family  concord,  and  indivicjual  sat- 
isfaction. A  lingering,  pleading,  lengthened- 
out  dispute,  betwixt  the  mother  and  the  child, 
even  when  the  mother  gains  the  mastery  in 
the  end,  is  the  very  opposite  in  its  results  to 
what  all  rational  parents  would  desire ;  and 
the  little  girl  who  keeps  her  nurse  waiting 
for  her  a  whole  hour,  because  she  entreats 


her  mother  every  ten  minutes  that  she  may 
stay  up  a  little  longer,  has  to  be  carried  off  to 
bed  at  nine  o'clock,  with  as  much  screaming 
and  opposition  as  there  would  have  been  at 
eight,  and  with  the  additional  injury  to  her 
health  and  temper,  of  having  suffered  the 
loss  of  her  natural  rest ;  with  the  still  worse 
addition  of  having  discovered,  that  by  plead- 
ing and  coaxing  she  can  overcome  her  moth- 
er's influence,  and  set  aside  her  determina- 
tion to  enforce  what  is  right. 

Habit,  which  is  said  to  be  second  nature 
with  all,  is  almost  more  than  that  with  chil- 
dren. Thus  the  habit  of  resisting  and  dis- 
puting authority,  by  whatever  means  it  may 
be  done,  lets  in  a  tide  of  evil  consequences 
not  to  be  arrested  by  any  occasional  resump- 
tion of  the  power  which  has  been  voluntarily 
resigned.  The  maintenance  of  authority  is 
like  the  preservation  of  a  string  of  beads — 
break  but  the  "  silken  cord  on  which  they 
hang,"  and  the  pearls  are  scattered  in  dis- 
order, if  not  irretrievably  lost  By  suffering 
the  rule  of  obedience  to  be  set  aside,  an  end- 
less catalogue  of  evil  tempers,  vexations, 
disappointments,  artifices,  mean  subterfuges, 
and  even  the  worst  of  all  bribery — the  bribery 
of  self-interested  endearments — are  allowed 
to  take  the  place  of  that  steady,  calm,  and 
undeviating  submission,  which  costs  no  pain, 
and  requires  no  sacrifice,  simply  because  it  is 
habitual. 

There  is  no  spectacle  in  life  more  deplora- 
ble, and  few  more  calculated  to  awaken  feel- 
ings of  contempt,  than  that  of  an  undisci- 
plined and  pettish  temper  fretting  against 
and  resisting  what  is  inevitable ;  and  yet  all 
this  folly,  as  well  as  the  suffering  with  which 
it  is  always  associated,  is  necessarily  conse- 
quent upon  that  error  in  the  management  of 
childhood,  which  allows  of  rightful  authority 
being  made  the  subject  of  resistance  and 
dispute.  On  the  other  hand,  we  never  con- 
template human  nature  in  a  more  noble  or 
dignified  position,  than  when,  under  the  dis- 
pensation of  Divine,  and  consequently  indis- 
putable power,  it  yields  a  willing  and  prompt 
obedience. 

It  may  be  said  that  the  obedience  of  a  child 


16 


THE  MOTHERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


to  those  who  superintend  its  infant  years, 
has  nothing  whatever  to  do  with  the  submis- 
sion of  beings  more  rational  and  mature  to 
laws  which  they  acknowledge  to  be  divine ; 
but  I  am  fully  persuaded  that  the  habit  of 
rebellion  against  human  authority,  allowed 
in  early  life,  will  render  the  habit  of  submis- 
sion to  a  higher  Power  of  more  difficult  at- 
tainment in  after  years ;  while,  on  the  other 
hand,  the  same  proportion  of  opposite  results 
will  follow  from  a  prompt  and  undeviating 
subjection  of  the  weaker  to  the  stronger, 
during  those  early  stages  of  existence  when 
it  is  impossible  that  the  reasons  for  enforcing 
a  parent's  commands  should  be  fully  under- 
stood. 

Among  the  records  preserved  to  us  of  the 
dealings  of  God  with  man  in  the  early  history 
of  the  world,  nothing  is  more  striking  than 
the  manner  in  which  this  principle  of  unques- 
tioning obedience  was  enforced.  Until  the 
rule  of  simple  obedience  was  acknowledged, 
nothing  could  be  done  towards  the  develop- 
ment of  those  higher  principles  which  were 
afterwards  to  enlighten  and  regenerate  man- 
kind. It  was  the  entire  submission  of  the 
ignorant  to  the  wise,  of  the  weak  to  the 
strong,  of  the  erring  to  the  steadfast,  of  the 
guilty  to  the  stainless  and  pure,  that  was 
required,  before  any  more  profound  and  ex- 
pansive system  of  discipline  could  be  brought 
to  operate  upon  the  different  characters  and 
habits  of  mankind ;  and  although  the  child  will 
soon,  too  soon,  discover  that  its  earthly  pa- 
rent is  not  so  perfect  as  its  young  affection 
had  taught  it  to  believe,  still,  until  it  can  bring 
into  competition  with  that  parent  an  equal 
amount  of  ability  to  discern  betwixt  the  evil 
and  the  good,  it  ought  never  to  be  permitted 
to  feel  that  there  is  a  way  of  escape  from  the 
rule  of  implicit  obedience. 

And  this  obedience,  I  repeat,  may  be  ren- 
dered as  easy  as  it  is  to  submit  to  the  dark- 
ness of  night  at  a  certain  hcfff,  or  to  the  cold 
of  winter  at  a  certain  season  of  the  year. 
We  do  not  often  see  children  go  into  convul- 
sions of  rage  because  a  shower  of  rain  is  fall- 
ing, and  thus  preventing  their  expected  walk. 
Convince  them  that  it  actually  does  rain,  and, 


feeling  that  the  calamity,  though  great,  is 
inevitable,  they  submit  accordingly,  and  often 
return  with  a  cheerfulness  which  might  in- 
struct their  seniors,  to  the  amusements  or 
occupations  which  they  had  been  busy  with 
before.  In  this  case  they  submit  without 
murmuring,  because  they  know  that  no  plead- 
ing of  theirs,  no  coaxing,  no  bribery,  ever  did 
make  the  rain  cease  at  their  bidding ;  and 
there  is  no  doubt  but  they  would  evince  the 
same  prompt  and  cheerful  submission  to  pa- 
rental authority,  if  it  was  exercised  in  a  con- 
sistent and  undeviating  manner. 

It  is  true  we  sometimes  hear  a  short  and 
sudden  sigh  from  the  child  who  is  called. 
away  at  a  certain  hour  to  leave  a  flattering 
circle  in  the  drawing-room,  for  the  obscurity 
of  the  nursery,  and  I  am  far  from  supposing 
that  habitual  obedience  never  costs  an  effort 
at  the  moment  it  is  required ;  but  I  speak  of 
the  effort  as  one  which  by  comparison  is  re- 
duced to  almost  nothing;  and  I  appeal  for 
the  truth  of  this  assertion  to  the  cheerfulness, 
serenity,  and  absence  of  unnecessary  disap- 
pointment, observable  in  children  who  are 
brought  up  under  that  system  of  unquestion- 
ing obedience,  which  is  the  only  true  founda- 
tion of  all  discipline  in  the  management  of 
children,  of  all  social  comfort  in  their  homes, 
and  of  all  satisfaction  to  those  who  have  the 
trouble  and  anxiety  of  watching  over  them. 

Although  the  exercise  of  that  authority 
which  is  here  so  earnestly  recommended, 
might  seem,  from  its  direct  and  undeviating 
character,  to  be  one  of  the  easiest  things  in 
the  world,  it  is,  as  has  already  been  observed, 
one  of  the  most  difficult  consistently  to  carry 
out;  because  the  natural  weakness  of  the 
mother's  heart  is  ever  tempting  her  to  risk 
the  future  good  of  her  child,  for  the  sake  of 
its  immediate  gratification.  And  here,  if  ever, 
we  see  the  necessity  there  is  for  women  to 
attain  that  self-mastery,  and  to  cultivate  that 
moral  courage,  without  which  they  are  inca- 
pable of  working  out  any  lasting  good  by 
their  influence  over  others. 

It  is  that  little  sigh  we  have  just  alluded 
to,  that  appealing  look  perhaps  through  the 
mist  of  tears,  or,  more  than  all,  that  sweet 


AUTHORITY,  INFLUENCE,  AND  EXAMPLE. 


17 


spirit  of  resignation  with  which  the  child 
throws  up  its  game  not  yet  played  out,  and 
turns  to  hang  upon  the  neck  of  its  nurse, 
which  melts  the  mother's  firmness,  and  makes 
her  determine  that,  for  once  at  least,  its  un- 
resisting compliance  shall  be  rewarded  by  a 
deviation  from  the  accustomed  rule.  Thus 
the  poor  child  learns  how  to  appeal  another 
time.  It  learns  to  anticipate  these  devia- 
tions, and  to  consider  itself  aggrieved  when 
they  are  not  allowed.  Thus,  in  short,  the 
silken  cord  is  broken,  and  the  pearls  lie  scat- 
tered. 

Thus  too  we  see,  that  however  devoted  to 
the  happiness  of  her  children  the  fond  mother 
may  be,  however  amiable  herself,  however 
well-intentioned  with  regard  to  the  perform- 
ance of  her  maternal  duties,  there  must  be  in 
her  management  of  a  family  a  prospective 
reference  to  the  future,  a  calculation  as  to 
cause  and  effect,  and  a  power  of  serf-govern- 
ment, so  as  in  all  things  to  make  the  lesser 
subservient  to  the  greater  good ;  all  which 
an  education  of  accomplishments,  and  a  youth 
of  visiting  and  vanity,  are  but  little  calculated 
to  supply.  It  remains  therefore  to  be  the 
more  earnestly  urged  upon  the  mothers  of 
England,  that  so  far  as  they  are  able,  they 
should  look  well  to  these  things,  and  endeavor 
to  obviate,  in  the  education  of  their  children, 
the  evils  they  have  to  deplore  in  their  own. 

Our  next  subject  of  consideration  is  influ- 
ence, and  here  we  come  at  once  to  the  great 
secret  of  woman's  power  in  her  social  and 
domestic  character.  By  absolute  and  mere 
authority  it  is  little  indeed  that  woman  can 
do,  because  the  weakness  of  her  bodily  frame, 
and  the  natural  susceptibility  of  her  feelings, 
render  her  wholly  unfit  for  wielding  the 
weapon  of  authority  to  any  useful  purpose, 
and  especially  in  her  management  of  boys. 
Indeed  it  is  a  sight  most  pitiful  to  contemplate, 
where  a  poor  feeble  mother,  unsupported  by 
any  moral  or  intellectual  influence,  deals  out 
among  her  unheeding  children,  alternate 
slaps  and  thrusts,  accompanied  by  the  tone 
and  language  of  command,  without  its  appa- 
rently anticipated  results ;  while  she  wonders 
in  her  own  mind,  and  sometimes  inquires  of 


her  friends,  how  it  can  be  that  her  children 
are  more  rebellious  than  others,  though  under- 
going either  scolding  or  chastisement  every 
day  of  their  lives.  Such  for  the  most  part  is 
the  situation  of  woman  when  attempting  to 
exercise  authority  without  having  obtained 
influence ;  for  though  authority  alone  may 
be  made  available  in  the  management  of 
infancy,  no  sooner  is  the  discovery  made, 
that  the  requisites  for  maintaining  influence 
are  wanting  in  the  mother,  than  she  becomes 
in  some  degree  an  object  of  contempt,  and 
her  commands  are  consequently  set  at  naught 

It  is  just  possible  that  there  should  be 
among  women  some  of  those  stern,  cold, 
commanding  characters,  to  which  authority, 
simply  as  such,  appropriately  belongs.  Hap- 
pily, however,  such  mothers  are  but  rarely 
found,  and,  where  they  are,  present  a  strange 
deviation  from  the  usual  course  of  nature, 
the  contemplation  of  which  has  the  effect  of 
making  us  admire  the  more  the  harmony  and 
beauty  of  that  course  as  it  most  uniformly 
flows. 

If,  however,  authority  belongs  as  a  natural 
right  to  such  characters,  the  -finer  and  more 
vital  elements  of  moral  influence  never  can 
be  theirs  ;  and  to  imagine  the  tenderness  of 
childhood  committed  to  a  mother  of  this  de- 
scription, is  to  call  up  a  picture  too  revolting 
for  the  mind  to  dwell  upon  without  shrinking 
and  horror.  Such  a  mother  may  possibly 
govern  the  actions  of  her  children  by  the 
exercise  of  absolute  power,  but  she  can  never 
know  the  sweet  security  of  moral  influence, 
which  operates  as  effectually  when  distant 
and  unseen,  as  when  every  act  of  youth  is 
watched  by  the  most  scrutinizing  eye. 

At  the  root  of  all  good  influence  is  example. 
The  conduct,  mind,  and  spirit  of  the  mother 
give  a  tone  to  that  domestic  atmosphere  by 
which  the  soul  in  its  early  experience  is 
sustained.  Where  that  atmosphere  is  impreg- 
nated with  the  elements  of  discord,  arising 
from  the  rude  passions  and  wrong  tempers 
of  the  parents,  and  of  the  household  in  gener- 
al, it  is  impossible  that  the  spirit  of  childhood 
should  be  kept  in  a  healthy  state  :  nor  even 
where  the  members  of  a  family  are  addicted 


18 


THE  MOTHERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


to  melancholy  and  reserve,  can  the  younger 
branches  be  said  to  exist  in  a  genial  or  whole- 
some air. 

It  has  been  beautifully  observed  by  the 
author  of  Home  Education,  a  book  which  all 
mothers  ought  to  read,  that  "  the  recollection 
of  a  thoroughly  happy  childhood — other  ad- 
vantages not  wanting — is  the  very  best  prepa- 
ration, moral  and  intellectual,  with  which  to 
encounter  the  duties  and  cares  of  real  life. 
A  sunshine  childhood  is  an  auspicious  in- 
heritance, with  which,  as  a  fund,  to  com- 
mence trading  in  practical  wisdom  and  ac- 
tive goodness.  It  is  a  great  thing  only  to 
have  known  by  experience  that  tranquil, 
temperate  felicity  is  actually  attainable  on 
earth.  How  many  have  pursued  a  reckless 
course,  because,  or  chiefly  because,  they  early 
learned  to  think  of  happiness  as  a  chimera, 
and  believed  momentary  gratification  to  be 
the  only  substitute  placed  within  the  reach 
of  man  1  Practicable  happiness  is  much 
oftener  thrown  away  than  really  snatched 
from  us  ;  but  it  is  the  most  likely  to  be  pur- 
sued, overtaken,  and  husbanded,  by  those 
who  already,  and  during  some  considerable 
period  of  their  lives,  have  been  happy.  To 
have  known  nothing  but  misery,  is  the  most 
portentous  condition  under  which  human 
nature  can  pursue  its  course." 

It  is  a  fact  universally  acknowledged,  that 
the  healthy  tone  of  the  domestic  atmosphere, 
as  well  as  the  general  cheerfulness  of  the 
household,  depend  very  much  upon  the  mo- 
ther. In  her  capacity  of  a  wife,  and  mistress 
of  a  family,  she  is  the  one  responsible  being 
for  the  general  arrangement  and  combination 
of  the  different  elements  of  social  and  do- 
mestic comfort  She  is  the  arbiter  in  all 
trivial  disputes,  the  soother  of  all  jarring 
and  discord,  the  explainer  of  all  misunder- 
standings, and,  in  short,  the  mainspring  of 
the  machinery  by  which  social  and  domestic 
happiness  is  constantly  "supplied,  both  in 
her  household,  and  within  the  circle  she 
adorns. 

We  cannot,  perhaps,  better  deserve  the 
effect  of  moral  atmosphere  upon  the  mind, 
than  by  that  of  a  pleasant  or  unpleasant  day, 


spent  in  the  country,  upon  the  bodily  frame. 
Upon  the  health  and  spirits  of  some  individu- 
als the  weather  has,  at  all  times,  a  powerful 
effect ;  but  while  earnestly  pursuing  our  ac- 
customed avocations,  —  more  especially  as 
they  are  now  generally  pursued  in  busy 
towns, — we  have  little  time  to  think  about 
the  weather,  or  to  yield  ourselves  to  the  sen- 
sations it  is  calculated  to  excite.  But  when 
we  go  out  from  home  for  the  purpose  of  en- 
joying an  excursion,  the  case  is  widely  dif- 
ferent With  a  cold  east  wind  blowing  full 
in  our  faces,  and  a  thick  canopy  of  clouds 
obscuring  the  sun,  we  look  in  vain  for  beauty 
or  gladness,  either  in  the  earth  or  sky, — and, 
sinking  into  a  gloomy  sort  of  silence,  we 
think  only  of  the  rheumatism  which  seems 
to  be  twitching  at  every  limb,  of  the  friend 
we  have  left  behind  as  the  only  companion 
we  really  cared  for,  or  of  the  clothing  and 
provisions  we  have  happened  to  bring  as 
being  the  least  suitable  in  every  respect  for  a 
cold  day  in  the  country.  Arrived  at  the 
place  of  destination,  our  feet  are  benumbed 
with  cold — the  grass  is  yet  damp  with  the  last 
night's  rain — a  general  shivering,  with  an 
impulse  to  get  away,  creeps  over  us — we 
grow  caustic  and  bitter  in  our  remark?,  and 
finally  end  the  day  with  the  commencement 
of  a  severe  cold. 

When  the  same  party — precisely  the  same 
in  number,  character,  and  means  of  enjoy- 
ment— set  out  on  the  same  excursion  in  beau- 
tiful weather,  how  different  are  their  bodily 
sensations,  and  consequently  the  tone  of 
every  mind !  The  scenery  through  which 
they  pass  is  the  same  in  every  respect,  ex- 
cept that  the  atmosphere  is  changed.  A  balmy 
air  breathes  over  them,  laden  with  the  odors 
of  fresh  opening  flowers — sunshine  smiles 
upon  every  object — and,  as  they  pass  along, 
vexations,  disappointments,  and  drawbacks 
to  enjoyment,  are  all  forgotten.  What  if  the 
friend  who  had  promised  to  accompany  them 
be  left  behind  1  They  feel  no  want  of  him. 
What  if  their  viands  are  the  homeliest  or  the 
least  approved  1  Their  appetites,  sharpened 
beyond  their  usual  vigor,  are  equal  to  the  pro- 
vision made  for  them,  whatever  that  may  be- 


AUTHORITY,  INFLUENCE,  AND  EXAMPLE. 


19 


As  to  rheumatism,  they  forget  that  ever  it 
assailed  their  peace, — while  influenza  and 
ague  are  calamities  the  mention  of  which 
awakens  only  a  smile.  It  is  especially  on 
such  days  that  charity  abounds — that  benevo- 
lence embraces  those  whom  it  would  have 
spurned  before — that  ambition,  wealth,  and 
fame,  become  as  nothing  in  comparison  with 
good-humor  and  good- will ;  and  all  things 
being  blended  happily  together  by  the  magical 
influence  of  what  is  called  a  pleasant  day,  the 
party  return  to  their  homes  with  health  and 
energies  renewed,  and  not  unfrequently  both 
better  and  wiser  than  when  they  first  went 
out 

It  must  be  remembered  that  the  sensations 
here  described  are  continued  only  for  a  day  ; 
whereas  those  with  whom  we  live,  and  espe- 
cially those  with  whom  we  associate  in  early 
life,  affect  us  by  their  influence  and  example 
perhaps  for  many  years. 

I  repeat,  then,  it  is  to  woman  that  we  look 
for  so  directing  the  various  capabilities  with 
which  she  is  naturally  endowed,  as  to  create 
around  her  a  moral  atmosphere,  as  powerful 
in  its  effect  upon  the  mind,  as  that  which  has 
just  been  described  is  upon  the  body,  and  con- 
sequently upon  both. 

Much  has  been  said,  and  justly,  of  the  im- 
portance, to  women,  of  good  talents  and  well- 
cultivated  minds  ;  yet  it  must  be  allowed 
that  not  always  do  the  wisest  women — nor, 
unfortunately,  the  most  pious — make  the  best 
mothers.  A  simple,  straight-forward  charac- 
ter, will  sometimes  evince  infinitely  more  skill 
in  the  management  of  children  than  some  of 
those  whose  minds  are  stored  with  systems 
of  education.  The  fact  is,  these  systems, 
unless  naturally  and  appropriately  conduct- 
ed, are  not  intelligible  to  children.  The  aim 
and  object  of  the  mother  remains  a  mystery 
to  them — while  they  distinctly  feel,  and  long 
remember,  all  that  is  disagreeable  in  the  mode 
of  administering  the  elaborate,  and  to  them 
incomprehensible,  discipline  to  which  they  are 
subjected. 

The  wisest  women  are  not  always  best  ac- 
quainted with  the  language  of  infant  thought, 
nor  is  it  the  most  pious  who  are  quickest  to 


detect  the  indications  of  peculiar  character 
and  temperament  in  early  life.  It  is  a  la- 
mentable fact,  that  half  the  excellent  advice 
of  good  people  addressed  to  children,  as  well 
as  to  the  illiterate  and  the  poor,  falls  from 
their  lips  unheeded,  for  want  of  being  adapt- 
ed to  the  understandings  and  habits  of  their 
hearers.  "  To-morrow  is  rny  birthday,"  said 
a  little  girl  of  my  acquaintance  to  a  friend 
who  had  placed  her  on  his  knee.  "  Shall  I 
come  and  help  you  to  keep  it  7"  asked  the 
gentleman.  "  Oh  !"  replied  the  child,  with 
the  utmost  astonishment,  "  we  don't  keep  it 
It  goes  away  again  directly."  Now,  if,  in  so 
common  and  familiar  an  expression  as  that 
of  keeping  a  birthday,  there  could  be  so  total 
a  want  of  understanding  betwixt  the  two 
parties  referred  to,  how  often  must  such 
misapprehensions  take  place  on  subjects  less 
familiar,  and  in  themselves  less  comprehen- 
sible, to  the  young ! 

It  is  thus  that  the  highly  gifted,  whose 
ideas  are  accustomed  to  flow  through  lofty 
or  intricate  channels,  so  often  fail  to  produce 
the  anticipated  results  in  their  tuition  of  the 
young  ;  while  persons  with  common  abilities 
and  simplicity  of  character  are  frequently 
able  to  engage  their  attention  and  obtain 
their  confidence,  simply  from  the  fact  of  their 
being  understood.  Thus,  then,  we  clearly 
perceive,  that  in  our  means  of  conveying  in- 
struction to  children,  there  must  be  a  certain 
degree  of  adaptation  to  the  germs  of  thought 
and  feeling  already  beginning  to  unfold  them- 
selves in  their  characters.  There  must  be 
adaptation  to  their  half-formed  impressions, 
and  to  the  limited  scope  of  their  ideas,  in  or- 
der to  our  certainty  that  their  mental  facul- 
ties are  going  along  with  us  in  our  efforts  to 
impart  instruction. 

But  far  beyond  this,  is  our  endeavors  to 
obtain  influence,  is  the  power  of  sympathizing 
with  those  whom  we  would  instruct  or 
guide  ;  and  in  this  instance,  above  all  others, 
we  see  that  from  her  natural  endowments, 
especially  from  her  capability  both  for  pro- 
found and  lively  sympathy,  woman  is  admi- 
rably fitted  for  the  part  she  has  to  fill  in  social 
life.  If  influence  be  the  secret  of  her  power, 


20 


THE  MOTHERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


sympathy  is  the  secret  of  her  influence — sym- 
pathy with  nature  in  its  trials,  temptations, 
sufferings,  and  enjoyment,  experienced  in  a 
degree  far  beyond  what  man  is  either  fitted 
for,  or  capable  of  affording. 

It  is  of  the  highest  importance,  too,  that 
this  sympathy  should  be  exhibited  through 
the  medium  of  tenderness,  so  as  to  inspire  a 
confidence  on  the  part  of  the  young,  in  the 
mother's  undeviating  desire  to  promote  their 
happiness.  A  single  suspicion  that  she  pre- 
fers her  own  good  to  that  of  others — but, 
above  all,  that  she  prefers  giving  pain  to  giv- 
ing pleasure,  or  finding  fault  to  expressing 
approbation,  is  just  so  much  weight  taken 
from  her  good  influence — just  so  much  im- 
pulse given  to  rebellion  or  contempt 

How  beautiful,  then,  in  its  adaptation  to 
the  situation  in  which  she  is  placed,  and  the 
duties  she  has  to  perform,  is  that  instinct  of 
maternal  love,  which,  from  its  intensity  and 
depth,  its  all-pervading  and  inextinguishable 
vitality,  so  lives  and  breathes  through  every 
act,  thought,  word,  and  look  of  the  fond  mo- 
ther, that  sooner  would  her  infant  doubt  its 
own  existence,  than  question  that  of  her  un- 
tiring love  !  And,  thanks  be  to  the  Author  of 
all  our  blessings  !  this  unbounded  supply, 
which  no  reasoning  and  no  power  of  mere 
human  agency  could  create,  is  never  want- 
ing in  the  mother's  hour  of  need.  That  she 
has  her  hodr  of  need,  none  can  dispute,  who 
know  any  thing  of  the  care  of  infancy  and 
childhood.  Yes  ;  she  has  it  in  sickness, 
when  her  feeble  strength  is  exhausted,  and 
yet  she  watches  on.  She  has  it  in  poverty, 
when  hunger  craves  the  bread  she  is  break- 
ing into  little  eager  hands.  She  has  it  when, 
night  after  night,  she  is  called  up  from  her 
downy  pillow  to  still  the  impatient  cry.  She 
has  it  when,  in  after  years,  there  comes  not 
the  full  measure  of  affection  which  she  had 
expended  back  into  her  own  bosom.  And 
she  has  it  when  disease  has  crushed  the 
beauty  of  her  opening  flower,  or  when  she 
looks  into  the  casket  of  her  infant's  mind,  and 
finds  that  the  gem  is  wanting  there.  Yet, 
under  all  these  circumstances,  when  money 
cannot  bribe  attention,  when  friendship  can- 


not purchase  care,  when  entreaties  cannot 
ensure  the  necessary  aid,  the  mother  is  rich 
in  resources  and  untiring  in  effort,  simply 
because  her  love  is  of  that  kind  which  cannot 
fail. 

To  a  certain  extent — and  would  that  for 
the  sake  of  kind  but  injudicious  mothers  it 
were  further  than  it  is — the  mere  conviction 
of  this  love  existing  in  the  mother's  heart 
will  ensure  a  corresponding  degree  of  influ- 
ence. But  no  sooner  do  children  begin  to 
think,  to  compare,  and  to  judge  for  them- 
selves— and  they  are  sometimes  better  judges 
than  we  suppose — no  sooner  do  they  begin 
to  form  an  estimate  of  their  mother's  mind, 
of  her  sense  or  her  want  of  sense,  than  these 
ideas  mix  themselves  with  that  of  her  affec- 
tion, and  her  influence  is  then  submitted  to  a 
new,  and  infinitely  more  trying  test 

Children  seldom  love  long  those  whom 
they  are  unable  to  respect,  and  thus  a  fond 
and  foolish  mother  invariably  brings  upon 
herself  the  neglect,  and  often  the  contempt 
of  her  family.  I  knew  a  fine  boy,  just 
emerging  from  childhood,  who-  whispered 
to  a  little  playmate  the  discovery  he  had 
made,  that  his  mother  was,  to  use  his  own 
expression,  "  quite  a  simpleton."  The  min- 
gling of  tenderness  with  shame,  in  the  man- 
ner in  which  he  communicated  this  lamenta- 
ble fact,  did  honor  both  to  his  head  and 
heart;  and  could  the  mother  have  known 
or  understood  the  melancholy  blank  which 
succeeded  to  the  warmest  admiration  in  the 
mind  of  her  boy,  and  the  hard  struggles  he 
had  afterwards  to  wage  betwixt  his  affection 
and  his  contempt,  she  would  surely  have  re- 
gretted, even  if  she  had  done  nothing  more, 
the  many  opportunities  which  had  been 
wasted  in  early  life,  for  cultivating  her  un- 
derstanding, and  rendering  her  talents  more 
worthy  of  respect. 

There  must  then  be  a  blending  of  confi- 
dence with  esteem  in  the  feelings  of  the  child, 
in  order  to  ensure  a  lasting  influence  to  the 
mother — of  confidence  founded  upon  a  con- 
viction of  her  sympathy  and  love,  and  of  es- 
teem for  her  own  character,  both  in  an  in- 
tellectual and  moral  point  of  view. 


AUTHORITY,  INFLUENCE,  AND  EXAMPLE. 


21 


On  the  subject  of  example,  much  more  re- 
mains to  be  said,  when  that  of  religious  in- 
fluence shall  come  under  consideration  ;  but 
it  is,  perhaps,  most  in  keeping  with  the  ob- 
servations already  made,  to  remind  the  read- 
er here,  that  there  is  a  bad,  as  well  as  a  good 
influence — that  influence  there  must  be,  of 
one  kind  or  other,  arising  out  of  the  close 
connection  and  constant  association  of  the 
mother  and  the  child  ;  and  that  where  good 
sense  and  good  principle,  are  wanting  in  the 
mother's  conduct,  the  absence  of  these  essen- 
tials to  good  influence,  especially  the  latter, 
will,  in  all  probability,  tell  upon  the  characters 
of  her  children  in  after  life  to  an  alarming 
extent.  In  vain  might  such  a  mother  train 
her  children  according  to  the  most  approved 
and  best  established  rules.  In  vain  might 
she  admonish  them,  though  in  the  language 
of  sincerity  and  love.  In  vain  might  she  lay 
down  for  them  a  system  of  the  purest  mor- 
als, or  even  preach  to  them  a  holier  law  de- 
rived from  the  Bible  itself.  The  unsophisti- 
cated mind,  and  clear  discriminating  eye  of 
childhood,  are  not  to  be  thus  deceived.  Long 
before  a  child  knows  how  to  make  use  of  the 
words  consistency  and  truth,  it  possesses  a 
discerning  spirit,  to  perceive  where  consis- 
tency is  deviated  from,  where  truth  is  vio- 
lated ;  and  when  this  is  the  case  in  the  con- 
duct of  the  mother,  what  hold  can  she  pos- 
sibly have  upon  the  confidence  and  esteem 
of  her  children] 

We  should  remember,  too,  that  impres- 
sions are  with  children  the  data  from  which 
they  afterwards  reason ;  and  long  before  they 
are  capable  of  what  may  be  strictly  denomi- 
nated conviction,  they  have  in  all  probability 
received  impressions  never  to  be  effaced. 
Could  we  look  into  the  mind  of  a  child,  and 
examine  the  tablet  of  its  memory,  we  should 
see  by  that  faithful  record,  that  each  day  had 
produced  a  particular  set  of  impressions, 
even  at  a  very  early  age.  We  discover  this 
from  their  prattle  in  their  waking  hours,  and 
often  from  the  image  which  evidently  flits  be- 
fore their  mental  vision,  when  they  lie  down 
to  sleep.  It  is,  therefore,  by  impressions 
chiefly,  that  the  mother  has  to  work  ;  and 


well  is  it  for  her,  and  for  all  who  have  to  do 
with  the  management  of  children,  if,  while 
delivering  lectures  to  them  upon  what  is 
right  and  wrong,  they  do  not  receive  the  im- 
pression that  it  is  very  tedious  and  very  dis- 
agreeable to  be  instructed  how  to  be  good. 
Well  too,  if,  while  the  mother  is  most  careful 
to  instil  into  their  minds  by  verbal  instruction, 
all  manner  of  good  principles,  they  do  not, 
from  her  conduct,  receive  the  impression 
that  these  things  may  be  well  enough  for  lit- 
tle boys  and  girls,  but  that  one  of  the  great 
privileges  of  men  and  women  is  to  be  able 
to  do  without  them.  Yet,  if  such  be  the 
power  of  influence  on  the  side  of  bad  exam- 
ple, what  must  it  be  where  there  exists  a 
perfect  harmony  between  the  character  and 
conduct  of  the  mother,  and  the  lessons  she 
endeavors  to  inculcate  ;  or  rather,  where  the 
lessons  themselves,  few,  and  short,  and  per- 
fectly adapted  to  the  understanding  of  child- 
hood, are  but  a  commentary  upon  her  own 
life,  and  that  of  her  husband  1 

So  much  has  been  said,  and  so  beautifully, 
on  the  subject  of  female  influence,  in  a  work 
entitled  "  Woman's  Mission,"  that  were  I  to 
yield  to  the  temptation  of  quoting  from  its 
eloquent  pages,  I  might  easily  be  led  on  to 
transcribe  the  whole.  I  will,  however,  con- 
tent myself  with  a  passage  from  a  French 
writer,*  whose  authority  is  frequently  referred 
to  in  that  volume,  where  he  says,  "  It  is  of 
the  utmost  consequence  to  remark,  that  in 
children,  sentiment  precedes  intelligence  ; 
the  first  answer  to  the  maternal  smile  is 
the  first  dawn  -of  intelligence;  the  first 
sensation  is  the  responding  caress.  Com- 
prehension begins  in  feeling  ;  hence,  to 
her  who  first  arouses  the  feelings,  who  first 
awakens  the  tenderness,  must  belong  the 
happiest  influences.  She  is  not,  however,  to 
teach  virtue,  but  to  inspire  it.  This  is  pecu- 
liarly the  province  of  woman.  What  she 
wishes  us  to  be.  she  begins  by  making  us 
love,  and  love  begets  unconscious  imitation. 
What  is  a  child  in  relation  to  a  tutor  7  An 
ignorant  being  whom  he  is  called  upon  to  in- 

*  Amie  Martin. 


22 


THE  MOTHERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


struct  What  is  a  child  in  relation  to  a  mo- 
ther ?  An  immortal  being,  whose  soul  it  is 
her  business  to  train  for  immortality.  Good 
schoolmasters  make  good  scholars, — good 
mothers  make  good  men  ;  here  is  the  differ- 
ence of  their  missions." 

Few  subjects  are  more  hackneyed,  or  more 
common  to  all  writers,  than  that  of  maternal 
influence.  Perhaps  it  may  be  one  of  those, 
which,  admitting  of  no  question,  and  incapa- 
ble of  arousing  systematic  opposition,  wants 
the  interest  of  perpetual  excitement,  which 
party  feeling  gives  to  so  many  others  less 
worthy  of  regard.  It  is  not,  like  too  much 
of  the  religion  of  the  world,  kept  alive  by  the 
activity  of  contention  for  those  points  upon 
which  it  is  possible  to  disagree,  and  only  dor- 
mant with  regard  to  others  upon  which  all 
are  of  one  mind  ;  for  on  the  subject  of  ma- 
ternal influence,  nature,  reason,  and  religion 
speak  ever  the  same  language,  and  would 
equally  disown  a  violation  of  this  great  moral 
law.  Yet  as  a  strange  anomaly  presented 
by  human  life,  there  are  women,  and  kind 
and  well-meaning  women  too,  who  seem  not 
to  be  aware  that  the  sacred  name  of  mother 
entails  upon  them  an  amount  of  responsibility 
proportioned  to  the  influence  which  it  places 
in  their  hands.  There  are  mothers,  and  not 
a  few,  who  appear  to  consider  themselves 
called  upon  to  do  any  thing,  rather  than  at- 
tend to  the  training  of  their  children ;  who 
find  time  for  morning  calls,  when  they  have 
none  for  the  nursery  or  the  school-room ;  and 
even  make  the  dresses  of  their  infants,  rather 
than  answer  questions  dictated  by  their  open- 
ing minds. 

It  has  often  been  said  that  no  man,  how- 
ever depraved  or  vicious,  need  be  utterly 
despaired  of,  with  whom  his  mother's  in- 
fluence still  lingers  on  the  side  of  virtue. 
On  the  couch  of  sickness,  the  battle-field,  and 
even  the  gloomy  scaffold,  it  is  the  image  of 
his  mother  which  still  haunts  the  memory  of 
the  dying  man ;  and  in  the  hour  of  strong 
temptation,  when  guilty  comrades  urge  the 
treacherous  or  the  bloody  deed,  it  is  to  forget 
the  warning  of  his  mother's  voice,  that  the 
half-persuaded  victim  drinks  a  deeper  draught 


If  in  scenes  like  these  a  mother's  influence 
is  the  last  preserving  link,  how  sweetly  does 
it  operate  when  life  is  new,  and  experience 
yet  unsullied  by  any  deep  or  lasting  stains  ! 
How  sweetly  does  it  operate,  like  a  kind  of 
second  conscience,  more  tender,  more  forgiv- 
ing, yet  still  more  appealing  than  the  first,  in 
all  those  minor  perplexities  and  trials  of  hu- 
man life,  where  judgment,  bribed  by  inclina- 
tion, would  persuade  the  unpractised  travel- 
ler that  the  most  flowery  path  must  surely 
be  the  best !  It  is  in  the  beginning,  and  the 
end  of  evil,  that  this  power,  though  often  un- 
seen, and  purely  spiritual,  operates  with  a 
potency  peculiarly  its  own — in  the  beginning, 
to  win  us  back  by  that  simple  and  habitual 
reference  of  a  child  to  what  would  have  been 
its  mother's  choice ;  and  in  the  end,  by  that 
last  lingering  of  expiring  hope — that  hover- 
ing, as  it  were,  around  our  pillow,  of  some 
kind  angel,  reminding  us  at  once  of  the  ten- 
derness of  earthly  love,  and  qf  the  efficacy 
of  that  which  is  divine. 

There  seems  to  be  connected  with  the  hu- 
man mind,  and  almost  essential  to  its  wants 
in  this  probationary  state,  an  idea  of  the  pro- 
tection of  some  guardian  spirit  always  near, 
whose  peculiar  care  we  have  the  happiness 
to  be ;  and  the  closest  resemblance  we  find 
in  reality  to  this  consoling  and  delightful 
thought,  is  the  influence  of  a  mother,  often 
felt  more  powerfully  when  absent,  than  when 
under  the  inspection  of  her  ever  watchful  eye. 
Nor  can  change  of  scene  or  lapse  of  time 
obliterate  the  impression,  simply  because  it 
-  was  the  first,  and  made  at  a  time  when  the 
heart  was  a  tender  and  willing  recipient  to 
the  impress  of  affection.  Thus  it  visits  the 
rude  sailor  on  the  stormy  deep,  in  the  long 
watches  of  the  night ;  it  travels  with  the  pil- 
grim through  the  desert,  and  cheers  him  in 
the  stranger's  home  ;  and  if  it  does  not  check 
the  man  of  worldly  calculations  when  tempt- 
ed to  defraud,  it  sometimes  brings  him,  on  his 
couch  of  nightly  rest,  to  question  whether  he 
has  done  right  It  gives  music  to  the  voice 
of  fame,  when  it  echoes  on  a  mother's  ear ; 
sweetness  to  the  bridal  wreath,  when  a  mo- 
ther binds  it  on  a  daughter's  brow  ;  honor  to 


THE  USE  OF  A  MIND. 


23 


the  dignity,  a  mother  showed  us  how  to 
wear ;  and  value  to  the  wealth,  a  mother 
taught  us  how  to  use. 

I  speak  not  from  experience,  for  to  me  the 
precious  link  was  broken  before  I  felt  its 
power,  or  could  appreciate  its  worth ;  but  if 
an  aching  want  of  that  which  nature  pines 
for,  if  a  dim  vision  of  unseen  beauty  haunt- 
ing perpetually  the  path  of  life,  if  a  standard 
of  perfect  though  unknown  excellence  im- 
parting stability  and  form  to  the  hope  of  its 
existence  on  earth  ; — if  all  these  give  a  title 
to  describe  the  value  of  a  mother's  influence, 
then,  from  the  recollections  of  a  desolate 
childhood,  uncherished  by  maternal  tender- 
ness, surely  I  may  speak,  and  not  in  vain. 


CHAPTER  HI, 

THE   USE   OF  A   MIND. 

IT  is  me  fashion  of  the  present  day  to  di- 
rect every  means,  and  to  force  every  effort, 
to  some  obvious  and  immediate  result.  Thus 
education  has  come  to  be  regarded  as  a  pro- 
cess by  which  the  mind  is  filled,  rather  than 
one  by  which  it  is  exercised  in  the  use  of  its 
faculties. 

Education  is  also  too  frequently  considered 
as  a  thing  which  can  be  compressed  into 
almost  any  given  space  of  time,  by  dint  of 
labor  and  industry;  and  thus  parents  who 
indulge  a  foolish  ambition  to  see  their  chil- 
dren pushed  on  to  be  clever,  make  it  a  prac- 
tice to  stipulate,  in  sending  them  to  school, 
that  they  shall  learn  every  thing  within  the 
compass  of  human  attainment,  except  how 
to  use  their  minds.  They  complain,  too, 
sometimes,  of  the  high  terms  of  education  ; 
and  various  modes  of  bargaining,  and  bring- 
ing down  those  of  the  different  schools  to 
which  they  apply,  are  resorted  to,  with  little 
compunction  on  the  part  of  parents.  Yet 
when  we  consider  the  situation  of  those  who 
have  to  receive  under  their  care  children 
who  have  scarcely  been  prepared  for  the 
process  of  instruction  by  one  useful  habit,  or 


one  rational  idea  ;  when  we  consider,  too, 
that  in  the  course  of  a  very  few  years,  per- 
haps two  or  three,  the  habits  they  have  ac- 
quired have  to  be  uprooted,  an  entirely  new 
foundation  of  moral  and  intellectual  char- 
acter laid,  and  upon  this  a  superstructure 
erected,  composed  of  every  branch  of  learn- 
ing, and  adorned  with  every  accomplish- 
ment, and  all  this  with  but  slender  capacity 
on  the  part  of  the  child,  and  no  desire  what- 
ever to  be  any  thing  but  well  dressed,  well 
fed,  and  exceedingly  comfortable ;  I  would 
ask,  what  money  could  repay  the  labor  of 
converting  a  succession  of  such  children,  year 
after  year,  into  what  are  called  highly  edu- 
cated men  and  women]  And  even  if  by  dint 
of  indefatigable  effort  on  the  part  of  those 
who  teach,  there  should  now  and  then  be  one 
child  sent  home  with  a  memory  loaded  to 
excess — nay,  literally  crammed  with  names 
and  dates,  and  all  that  is  comprised  under 
the  head  of  school-learning — how  few,  even 
out  of  this  small  number,  find,  in  the  com- 
mon walks  of  life,  a  use  for  half  the  acquire- 
ments they  have  so  laboriously  attained ! 

I  speak  not  as  wishing  to  reduce  the  com- 
pass of  human  learning  within  a  narrower 
circle  than  it  fills  at  present  Far  from  it 
My  idea  is,  that  we  never  can  learn  too  much, 
provided  that  in  the  acquirement  of  one  thing, 
we  do  not  neglect  another  more  important ; 
and  there  will  always  be,  among  the  many, 
some  minds  sufficiently  gifted  and  compre- 
hensive to  profit  by  and  repay  an  extreme 
amount  of  culture.  But  in  confining  my 
remarks,  as  I  still  wish  they  should  be  un- 
derstood, chiefly  to  persons  of  the  middle 
class  in  Great  Britain,  one  half  of  whom, 
supposing  society  to  be  divided  only  into 
three  parts,  are  connected  more  or  less  with 
business,  and  subject  to  all  the  variety  of  cir- 
cumstance which  that  association  entails ;  I 
confess  I  do  not  see  how  the  mere  acquire- 
ment of  learning,  as  generally  taught  in 
schools,  is  an  indispensable  requisite.  In- 
deed, I  should  have  supposed  that  the  use 
of  the  faculty  of  observation  in  common 
things,  the  exercise  of  ingenuity,  and  the 
gradual  introduction  to  the  understanding  of 


THE  MOTHERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


botany,  chemistry,  mechanism,  and  natural 
history  in  general,  with  an  habitual  readiness 
in  the  use  of  resources,  and  the  application 
of  means  to  ends,  would  have  been  a  kind 
of  training,  especially  if  connected  with  half 
the  amount  of  school-learning  usually  bar- 
gained for,  quite  as  likely  to  make  clever 
merchants,  and  men  of  business,  as  well  as 
clever  mistresses  of  families,  as  that  system 
of  education  which  confines  all  learning  to 
what  may  be  stored  in  the  memory,  and  ac- 
quired from  books. 

In  the  use  of  a  mind,  it  is  very  evident 
that  those  who  teach  in  schools  can  have 
little  opportunity  for  conveying  instruction. 
Their  sphere  of  observation  is  necessarily 
limited ;  each  day  presents  objects  little  differ- 
ing from  the  last ;  and  all  those  unexpected 
and  novel  events  which  excite  interest  and 
inquiry  in  a  private  family,  it  is  the  aim  of 
school-discipline  to  prevent,  lest  the  attention 
of  the  pupils  should  be  diverted,  and  lessons 
consequently  hindered  by  interruption. 

The  use  of  a  mind,  however,  is  just  that 
important  part  of  education  which  a  mother 
is  BO  circumstanced  as  to  be  the  one  only 
being  to  teach  with  facility  and  success. 
There  are  few  fathers  who  have  it  in  thehr 
power  to  do  more  than  advise  and  direct  in 
the  education  of  their  children  ;  but  the  mo- 
ther has  a  twofold  advantage  in  her  presence 
in  the  midst  of  her  family,  and  in  the  natural 
influence  she  exercises  over  the  minds  of  her 
children.  Oh  \  but  the  mothers  of  England 
are  too  busy  in  the  present  day.  There  is 
really  so  much  to  be  done  for  the  public  good, 
so  many  subscriptions  to  be  raised,  so  many 
charities  to  be  attended  to,  so  many  public 
meetings,  committees,  and  societies  of  every 
description  to  be  kept  up,  that  in  large  towns 
especially,  the  mother  has  literally  no  time — 
absolutely  none — to  attend  to  the  instruction 
of  her  own  children. 

Perhaps  it  never  enters  into  the  minds  of 
these  excellent  ladies,  that  a  little  more  pri- 
vate good  done  to  the  individuals  immediate- 
ly under  their  care,  would  prevent  a  great 
deal  pf  their  public  charity  being  required — 
that  a  little  more  training  of  children  to  meet 


their  circumstances  whatever  they  may  be, 
to  act  with  consideration  to  others,  to  con- 
trive, to  economize,  to  manage,  and  to  be 
contented  and  cheerful  in  their  appointed  lot, 
would  prevent  much  of  the  extravagance, 
helplessness,  and  misery  which  exist  in  the 
world. 

I  appeal  to  those  who  have  had  much  to 
do  with  the  poor  and  the  destitute,  and  I  ask, 
whether  the  most  trying  cases  which  have 
%ome  under  their  notice,  have  not  generally 
arisen  from  the  sufferings  of  the  well-meaning, 
and  the  helpless  1  This  portion  of  the  com- 
munity seem  doomed  to  be  trampled  upon  by 
the  designing  and  the  wicked ;  and  though 
far  from  wishing  to  keep  back  the  smallest 
mite  that  may  be  passing  into  public  channels 
for  their  good,  yet  I  feel  assured  we  should 
do  more  for  their  ultimate  benefit,  by  teaching 
to  children,  and  through  them,  as  they  grow 
up,  to  servants  and  dependents,  the  readiest 
means  of  turning  all  common  things  to  the 
best  account,  than  by  collecting  thousands 
upon  thousands  for  the  relief  of  the  distressed. 

The  nature  of  the  present  times,  the  con- 
dition of  our  country,  the  frequent  downfall 
of  the  rich  from  affluence  and  ease,  and  the 
uncertainty  on  every  hand  of  greater  stability 
in  the  interests  of  trade  and  commerce,  are 
powerful  calls  upon  the  mothers  of  England, 
to  turn  their  attention  more  earnestly  to  the 
preparation  of  individual  character  for  such 
private  and  social  revolutions,  as  there  ap- 
pears every  reason  to  anticipate. 

It  is  urged  by  some  women,  that  they  have 
their  evening  parties,  and  their  morning  calls, 
to  attend  to ;  by  others,  that  they  have  their 
domestic  arrangements ;  by  a  vast  number, 
that  they  have  not  health  to  contend  with 
children ;  and  by  still  more,  that  they  have 
not  ability.  To  ask  such  women  why  they 
happened  to  get  married,  is  an  impertinence 
one  is  rather  tempted  to  commit ;  for  if  at- 
tending to  morning  calls,  or  even  visiting,  be 
the  paramount  duty  of  life,  a  single  woman 
might  certainly  discharge  this  duty,  with 
more  propriety,  and  with  less  hindrance, 
than  a  married  one.  If  the  management  of 
a  house  be  urged  as  more  important  than  the 


THE  USE  OF  A  MIND. 


25 


management  of  an  immortal  mind,  the  situa- 
tion of  a  housekeeper  would  have  been  more 
suitable  than  that  of  a  wife  or  a  mother  to  the 
woman  who  offers  this  excuse.  The  plea  of 
want  of  ability  is  a  strong  condemnation  to 
her  who  did  not  find  this  out  in  time ;  and 
that  of  want  of  health,  though,  unlike  the  oth- 
ers, deserving  tenderness  and  sympathy,  af- 
fords no  reason  for  entire  exemption  except 
in  extreme  cases  ;  because  a  mother's  influ- 
ence, if  once  established,  is  often  known  to 
operate  beneficially,  even  when  she  herself 
is  confined  to  a  couch  of  sickness. 

There  is  in  reality  scarcely  any  thing  which 
ought  to  stand  in  the  way  of  a  mother's  con- 
stant and  strict  attention  to  the  training  of 
her  children ;  because  she  is  in  reality  the 
person  whose  influence  over  them  is  the 
most  powerful ;  and  whatever  school  she  may 
select  for  them,  whatever  teachers  she  may 
choose,  she  is  the  person  in  whose  hands  their 
mental  and  spiritual  welfare  is  placed. 

Since  then  there  is  no  escape  from  this  im- 
perative duty,  let  us  ask  wrhat  are  the  par- 
ticular advantages  and  facilities  for  discharg- 
ing it,  which  the  mother  enjoys  beyond  oth- 
ers 1  In  the  first  place,  she  begins  with  the 
unbounded  affection  of  her  children — an  af- 
fection which  sees  her  beautiful,  and  believes 
her  perfect;  which  questions  not  the  wisdom 
that  flows  from  her  lips,  and  still  less  can 
doubt  the  truth  of  what  she  tells.  What  oth- 
er teacher  of  youth,  I  would  ask,  can  begin 
the  process  of  education  with  these  advanta- 
ges ?  Instead  then  of  leaving  it  to  others  to 
do,  what  she  is  sometimes  glad  of  any  plea  to 
escape  from,  she  ought  to  thank  God,  and 
take  courage,  that  her  confessedly  arduous 
undertaking  has  thus  been  rendered  compar- 
atively easy  by  the  dispensations  of  an  all- 
wise  Creator. 

If,  like  the  governess,  the  mother  had  to 
begin  with  strangeness,  and  perhaps  with  re- 
pulsion, how  different  would  her  situation  be  ! 
She  would  then  have  to  feel  her  way,  to  win 
by  watchfulness  and  care  every  inch  of 
ground,  and  to  study  infant  characteristics, 
as  well  as  to  disguise  her  own,  in  order  to 
obtain  the  slightest  influence.  But  happily 


for  the  mother,  her  children  love  her  as  she 
is.  Her  kiss  could  not  be  more  welcome,  if 
her  cheek  was  that  of  Hebe,  nor  could  the 
wisdom  of  a  Socrates  inspire  them  with  great- 
er respect  than  they  feel  for  hers.  How  cru- 
el then  to  her  children,  and  how  negligent 
of  this  beautiful  provision  made  by  Divine 
Providence,  both  for  them  and  for  her,  is  that 
shrinking  from,  or  that  indifference  on  the 
part  of  the  mother  to  a  duty  which  nature  so 
evidently  points  out  as  hers ;  and  that  will- 
ing consigning  of  her  children's  early  edu- 
cation to  those  who  begin  the  task,  and  most 
frequently  pursue  it  to  the  end,  under  circum- 
stances so  much  less  favorable. 

But  after  all,  the  duty  of  education  is  one 
which  cannot  be  deputed  to  another  in  very 
early  life,  unless  the  mother  entirely  absents 
herself,  or  becomes  a  mere  nonentity  in  the 
nursery.  The  process  of  education  is  going 
on  every  day,  because  the  infant  mind  is 
every  day  receiving  impressions,  learning  to 
compare,  and  gradually  maturing  in  every 
way ;  and  as  a  child  naturally  loves  its 
mother  best,  it  will  receive  from  her  the 
deepest  and  most  lasting  of  those  impres- 
sions, which  are  to  give  a  bias  to  its  charac- 
ter, and  perhaps  ^eventually  determine  its 
destiny  for  this  world  and  the  next  There 
is  then  no  escape.  Neglect  may  tell  upon 
the  character,  as  well  as  care ;  and  since  the 
mother  must  be  the  one  responsible  being  as 
regards  her  child,  why  not  set  about  in 
earnest,  and  with  cheerfulness  and  hope,  the 
task  of  teaching  it,  in  the  first  place,  how  to 
use  its  own  mind  1 

Inspired  by  a  laudable  desire  to  be  the 
early,  and  perhaps  the  sole  instructors  of  their 
children,  some  well-meaning  and  industrious 
mothers  begin  with  lettered  cards  and  books, 
to  teach  the  first  rudiments  of  spelling  and 
reading,  before  their  children  are  capable  of 
attaching  a  single  right  idea  to  the  words 
they  read ;  and  it  often  happens  that  those 
parents  who  are  the  most  sparing,  and  the 
least  apt,  in  the  communication  of  their  own 
ideas,  are  the  most  solicitous  about  their  chil- 
dren being  taught  to  read  at  the  earliest  pos- 
sible period  of  capability.  Such  parents  seem 


26 


THE  MOTHERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


to  have  overlooked  the  fact,  that  there  is  very 
little  exercise  of  the  mind  in  simply  learning 
to  read ;  though  the  demands  which  are  thus 
made  upon  attention,  patience,  and  memory, 
are  a  little  too  exorbitant,  and  certainly  such 
as  never  can  repay  either  the  teacher  or  the 
taught,  by  an  amount  of  success  at  all  pro- 
portioned to  the  labor  and  the  pain  of  their 
endeavors. 

But  why,  when  the  mother  has  such  ex- 
quisite materials  to  work  with,  as  the  love 
and  the  confidence  of  her  child,  with  its  quick 
sensibility  to  enjoyment — why  does  she  not 
begin  to  work  with  these  materials,  so  as  to 
introduce  ideas  at  once  to  its  mind,  and  then 
to  affix  to  such  ideas  their  appropriate  signs  1 
By  teaching  the  signs  of  ideas  first,  we  re- 
verse the  order  of  nature,  and  convert  into  a 
j  task  of  painful  and  herculean  toil,  that  which 
might  be  rendered  by  the  mother  a  source  of 
perpetual  interest  and  enjoyment 

The  memory,  too,  may  be  easily  impressed 
by  those  who  carefully  watch  the  best  oppor- 
tunity of  conveying  instruction  to  the  young ; 
because  whatever  we  can  be  made  feelingly 
to  comprehend,  we  distinctly  remember ;  and 
thus  the  mother,  through  the  medium  of  her 
own  sympathies,  and  the  affections  of  her 
child,  enjoys  an  advantage  over  all  other 
preceptors.  Whatever  also  strikes  the  senses 
in  a  forcible  manner,  makes  a  vivid  impres- 
sion upon  the  mind,  so  as  to  be  long  remem- 
bered. From  this  principle  the  method  of 
teaching  as  at  present  pursued  in  infant 
schools,  derives  its  power  and  efficacy  ;  and 
from  the  same  principle  it  is,  that  home- 
education  possesses  in  many  respects  so 
decided  a  superiority  over  that  of  schools. 

Let  us  for  a  moment  imagine  the  case^of  a 
mother  and  her  child,  gazing,  for  the  firs 
time  in  the  experience  of  the  latter,  upon  the 
phenomena  of  a  thunder-storm.  The  chile 
feels  no  alarm  as  the  brilliant  flashes  of  light 
ning  follow  each  other  in  quick  succession 
because  it  is  accustomed  to  think  that  safety 
dwells  beside  its  mother.  It  therefore  watches 
them  with  astonishment  and  delight ;  am 
during  the  intervals,  the  mother  teaches  it, 
that  the  vivid  and  sudden  light  which  illu- 


ninates  both  heaven  and  earth  at  the  same 
nstant,  is  called  a  flash  of  lighting. 

Now  compare  this  method  of  instruction 
vith  that  which  is  most  frequently  adopted ; 
nd  imagine  a  little  child  poring  over  a  spell- 
ng-book,  spreading  its  rosy  hand  upon  the 
>age,  and  with  contracted  brow,  and  anxious 
ye,  alternately  attempting  to  spell  a  discon- 
nected mass  of  words  off  the  book,  and  then 
>eeping  again  at  the  unintelligible  and  elab- 
orate meaning  given  to  each  short  word,  as 
f  ter  render  it  less  comprehensible  than  when 
t  stood  alone.  Perhaps  the  word  is  flash, 
:he  meaning  of  which  is  painfully  hammered 
out,  or  probably  explained  by  the  teacher, 
where  the  child  is  too  young  to  "  learn  mean- 
ngs."  But  what  impression  is  such  expla- 
nation likely  to  make  in  this  instance,  when 
the  poor  little  sufferer,  with  its  strained  atten- 
tion, has  next  to  be  questioned  in  flat,  flask, 
and  some  dozen  other  words,  each  as  differ- 
iit  from  the  last  in  meaning  and  association 
as  it  is  possible  to  be. 

It  is  as  little  likely  that  the  child  in  the 
latter  instance  should  remember  the  significa- 
tion and  use  of  the  word  flash,  as  it  is  that  it 
should  forget  it  in  the  former,  while  associated 
with  that  wonderful  evening,  when  it  stood 
protected  by  its  mother's  arms,  and  looked 
out  upon  the  world,  all  darkness  and  gloom 
at  one  moment,  all  brilliance  and  light  the 
next    I  say  nothing  here  of  the  more  expan- 
sive and  complex  idea  of  a  thunder-storm 
being  introduced  to  the  mind  of  the  child, 
because  I  have  supposed  it  too  young  for 
such  an  extent  of  intelligence  ;  but  the  same 
principle,  I  am  persuaded,  would  hold  good 
throughout  and  save  a  world  of  trouble  to 
those  who  should  afterwards  undertake  the 
education  of  children  prepared  in  this  man- 
ner for  being  sent  to  school.    Indeed,  it  is 
impossible  to  say  to  what  important,  or  \vha 
trifling  matters,  all  coming  under  the  cogni- 
zance of  the  mother,  this  principle  may  no 
be  applied.    I  knew  a  little  boy,  very  dull  a 
his  letters,  yet  very  quick  to  make  observa- 
tions upon  cause  and  effect  who,  long  before 
he  could  speak  plainly,  walked  one  day  beside 
his  mother  in  perfect  silence,  looking  earnestly 


THE  USE  OP  A  MIXD. 


27 


at  her  feet.  At  last  he  said,  in  his  broken 
language,  "  One  foot  goes,  while  tudder  foot 
stops."  Here  then  was  an  opportunity  for 
the  mother  to  give  her  boy  a  lesson  of  far 
more  value  than  many  pages  in  a  book  of 
spelling,  or  of  reading  made  easy.  She  might, 
and  she  possibly  did,  set  him  to  raise  his 
weight  from  the  ground  by  lifting  both  feet 
at  once  ;  and  at  the  same  time  she  might 
explain  to  him  in  a  manner  which  he  never 
would  forget,  the  meaning  and  application  of 
the  words  step,  icalk,  run,  jump,  with  many 
others,  which  he  would  have  been  months  in 
learning  as  a  common  lesson. 

To  the  observation  of  the  boy  upon  his 
mother's  feet,  that  one  stopped  while  the 
other  went  on,  a  nurse-maid  would  in  all 
probability  have  replied — "  To  be  sure  it 
does  :  what  a  silly  boy  you  are !"  and  here 
would  have  been  an  end  of  the  matter.  The 
general  incapacity  of  servants  to  convey  use- 
ful information  with  regard  to  common  things, 
makes  it  sometimes  a  subject  of  astonish- 
ment, that  mothers  should  so  seldom  walk 
out  with  their  children  ;  because  it  is  chiefly 
in  their  walks  that  their  attention  is  struck 
by  new  objects,  and  their  curiosity  in  conse- 
quence awakened.  Even  where  the  attend- 
ance of  a  governess  is  substituted  for  that  of 
a  nurse,  the  case  is  not  always  much  better ; 
because  none  but  a  mother  can  love  a  child 
well  enough  to  be  always  teaching  it.  The 
governess,  of  course,  will  have  stipulated 
that  when  school-hours  are  over,  she  shall 
have  nothing  more  to  do  in  the  way  of  in- 
struction :  and  even  if  it  be  agreed  upon, 
that  she  shall  walk  out  with  the  children, 
who  shall  assert  a  right  to  deprive  her  of  al- 
most the  only  luxury  permitted  to  a  govern- 
ss — the  luxury  of  her  own  thoughts "!  Thus, 
while  the  child  is  asking  whether  the  same 
Dutterflies  will  come  again  next  spring,  she 
is  probably  thinking  of  a  letter  she  has  re- 
ceived that  morning,  telling  her  that  the  ves- 
sel in  which  her  brother  sailed  has  been  lost 
at  sea. 

Above  all  other  means  of  instruction,  that 

of  easy  and  familiar  conversation  is  the  most 

ffectual  in  the  general  tone  it  gives  to  the 


habits  of  thinking,  observing,  and  communi- 
cating ideas  in  a  family  ;  and  who  is  so  ca- 
pable of  using  this  means  as  a  mother? 
Who  but  a  mother  can  love  her  children  well 
enough  to  be  always  ready  and  willing  to 
convert  every  incident  that  may  occur  in  the 
nursery,  or  around  the  household  hearth, 
into  a  medium  for  the  enlargement  of  the 
sphere  of  thought,  the  correction  of  error,  or 
the  establishment  of  truth  7  It  is  a  subject 
worthy  of  being  taken  into  consideration, 
that  childhood,  unlike  mature  age,  is  pos- 
sessed with  an  almost  untiring  relish  for  the 
repetition  of  the  same  facts  which  have  af- 
forded interest  again  and  again  ;  and  thus  a 
favorite  old  story  is  often  called  for  by  the 
listening  group,  in  preference  to  any  thing 
new.  We  should  wonder  at  this  peculiarity 
in  childhood,  if  we  were  not  accustomed  to 
see  in  all,  even  the  most  minute  among  the 
laws  of  nature,  a  beneficent  design,  by  which 
preparation  is  made  for  a  future  state  of  be- 
ing ;  and  here,  in  the  demand  of  the  child 
for  a  narrative  which  has  often  been  repeated, 
we  recognize  a  provision  for  impressing  the 
plastic  nature  of  its  mind  and  feelings,  with 
fact;  which  shall  never  be  effaced.  But  who, 
I  would  ask  again,  except  a  mother,  can  bear 
to  answer  these  demands?  Who  else  will 
relate  a  story  for  the  hundredth  time  as 
freshly  as  when  first  it  was  told  1  Who  else 
will  patiently  sit  by  the  bedside  of  the  child, 
repeating  its  favorite  hymns]  Who  else 
will  awake  in  the  silent  hours  of  the  night, 
to  converse  about  the  unseen  Being  who 
protects  the  world,  and  keeps  watch  over 
the  little  infant  on  its  couch  of  rest  ? 

It  is  a  commonly  acknowledged  fact,  that 
half  the  fears  of  grown-up  people,  and  far 
more  than  half  the  fears  of  children,  arise 
from  their  ignorance.  Well-educated  women, 
or  at  least  such  as  are  popularly  called  so, 
are  often  found  in  this  respect  too  closely  to 
resemble  children ;  for  their  ignorance  of  ma- 
chinery, of  the  habits  of  animals,  and  of  nat- 
ural philosophy  in  general,  subjects  them  to 
innumerable  misapprehensions,  of  which,  it 
is  humbling  to  observe,  they  are  sometimes 
rather  proud  than  ashamed.  With  children 


•J- 


THE  MOTHERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


the  case  is  very  different,  because  it  is  no 
fault  of  theirs  that  they  do  not  understand 
what  they  have  never  had  an  opportunity  of 
hearing  explained.  In  their  walks  with  the 
nurse-maid,  they  have  probably  been  severe- 
ly chidden  when  they  have  exhibited  symp- 
toms of  fear,  and  told  that  the  cow  only  ran 
after  naughty  boys  and  girls ;  or  that  the  roar- 
ing steam-engine  which  terrified  them  so 
much,  was  a  very  good  engine,  because  it  car- 
ried people  to  London  to  see  the  pretty  sights. 
Beyond  such  explanations  as  these,  the  in- 
telligence of  the  nurse  too  seldom  extends. 
Besides  which,  we  must  not  fail  to  observe, 
that  in  these  and  similar  instances,  the  sen- 
sation of  fear  has  taken  possession  of  the 
child  before  the  explanation,  such  as  it  is, 
can  take  effect ;  and  thus  the  impression  of 
danger  remains  to  be  stronger  in  its  memory 
than  its  subsequent  impression  of  the  justice 
of  the  cow,  or  the  benevolence  of  the  steam- 
engine. 

What  I  am  particularly  anxious  to  urge 
upon  the  attention  of  mothers,  is  the  import- 
ance of  making  just  impressions  first ;  and  I 
am  persuaded  that  by  the  means  of  easy, 
and,  at  the  same  time,  instructive  conversa- 
tion, this  may  to  a  great  extent  be  done,  so 
that  when  the  object  which  would  otherwise 
have  been  one  of  terror,  does  present  itself, 
the  child  may  be  prepared  to  receive  it  under 
more  favorable  impressions  than  those  of  fear ; 
and  even  where,  as  must  necessarily  be  the 
case,  the  object  is  such  as  it  has  never  heard 
of  before,  the  child  who  has  been  in  the  habit 
of  receiving  well-timed  and  judicious  infor- 
mation from  its  mother,  will  be  preserved 
from  a  variety  of  painful  apprehensions,  by  a 
general  impression  that  every  thing  in  nature 
and  art  has  its  particular  use ;  and  that  even 
the  most  powerful  agents  of  which  it  can 
form  a  notion,  are  not  put  in  action  by  any 
malignity  of  their  own,  but  are  overruled  for 
some  good  purpose,  and  often  made  con- 
ducive to  the  greatest  benefit  to  man. 

The  feeling  of  trust  and  confidence  which 
such  a  mode  of  instruction  is  calculated  to 
inspire,  belongs  more  to  a  subsequent  chap- 
ter than  to  this.  Yet,  as  our  trust  in  general 


is  intimately  connected  with  our  impressions 
of  truth,  it  is  necessary  to  observe,  that  it  is 
chiefly  upon  its  confidence  in  the  combined 
wisdom  and  sincerity  of  its  mother,  that  the 
child  depends  for  security,  in  spite  often  of 
the  effect  produced  by  external  objects  upon 
its  senses ;  and  that  it  is  the  character  of  the 
mother,  taken  as  a  whole,  to  which  it  mental- 
ly refers  when  surprised  into  an  apprehen- 
sion of  danger  from  a  cause  which  it  cannot 
understand.  A  calm  and  self-possessed  mo- 
ther, welcoming  cheerfully  the  commop  in- 
cidents of  life,  has  much  in  her  power  in  the 
way  of  preserving  her  children  from  needless 
fears ;  and  if,  in  addition  to  this  self-posses- 
sion, she  adds  the  resources  of  a  well-stored 
mind,  opportunities  will  never  be  wanting  for 
teaching  them  why  they  have  no  cause  to  be 
afraid. 

Although  a  comparison  is  generally  allow- 
ed betwixt  painting  and  music,  as  sources  of 
gratification  adapted  to  a  high  degree  of  taste 
and  feeling,  yet,  in  their  actual  utility,  they 
bear  but  little  relation  to  each-  other.  An  in- 
ferior performance  on  the  harp,  or  the  piano, 
is  scarcely  in  the  present  day  admitted 
among  the  amusements  of  the  drawing- 
room.  Neither,  it  may  be  said,  is  an  inferior 
performance  in  the  way  of  drawing. — It  is 
not  much  to  the  purpose  to  surmise  what  a 
dismantling  of  albums  there  would  be,  if  this 
were  really  the  case.  My  business  is  chiefly 
to  show  that  there  may  be  great  utility  in  a 
kind  of  drawing,  which  is  little  calculated  to 
excite  the  admiration  of  an  evening  party ; 
and  it  would  be  an  unspeakable  advantage 
to  all  mothers,  in  conveying  lively  and  correct 
ideas  to  the  minds  of  their  children,  if  they 
were  themselves  proficients  in  the  art  of 
sketching  from  nature. 

Indeed  I  am  one  of  those  who  would  be 
glad  to  see  drawing  taught  to  all,  though  upon 
a  very  different  plan  from  that  which  seems 
at  present  to  be  most  approved.  It  is  not 
the  fault  of  those  who  teach,  that  all  children 
whose  parents  pay  for  drawing-lessons,  take 
home  a  certain  number  of  pieces  of  polished 
pasteboard,  on  which  are  depicted,  perhaps, 
a  gothic  arch  marked  out  by  the  master,  a 


THE  USE  OF  A  MIND. 


29 


bridge  beside  which  he  has  planted  a  tree,  a 
cottage  thatched  by  his  hand,  or  a  scarecrow 
Magdalene  with  a  round  tear  corning  out  of 
each  eye.  The  production  of  such  speci- 
mens, however  much  they  may  be  admired 
by  the  near  relations  of  the  pupil,  are  far  from 
being  illustrations  of  what  I  mean  by  the  art 
of  drawing. 

The  art  of  drawing  should  be  understood 
to  mean  the  art  of  making  just  and  true  de- 
lineations of  objects  as  they  are  ;  and  this 
might  be  taught,  in  the  first  place,  by  begin- 
ning at  once  to  reduce  the  simplest  objects  to 
the  size  wanted  on  the  pupil's  slate  or  paper. 
By  commencing  at  once  with  the  process  of 
reduction,  it  will  ever  afterwards  be  compar- 
atively easy,  and  not  present,  as  it  now  does, 
almost  insuperable  obstacles  to  the  art  of 
sketching  from  nature — the  only  end  really 
worth  attaining  in  learning  to  draw  or  paint. 

But  where,  it  may  be  asked,  if  the  pupils 
spend  their  time  in  drawing  nothing  better 
than  boxes,  book?,  or  the  outlines  of  simple 
figures  delineated  for  them  on  a  giant  scale — 
where  will  be  those  wonderful  results  which, 
the  fashion  of  the  day  demands  1  The  results 
of  such  a  process  would  certainly  not  consist 
in  what  could  be  brought  forward  at  any 
time  to  obtain  its  reward  of  praise,  they 
would  not  in  reality  consist  of  any  thing  which 
could  be  regarded  as  property  duly  paid  for 
at  the  marketable  price.  The  results  to 
which  my  ambition  for  the  rising  generation 
points,  would  consist  in  habits  of  observation, 
clear  perceptions  of  form  and  outline,  so  as 
to  have  the  fac-simile  of  every  well-known 
object  impressed  without  confusion  upon  the 
mind;  in  quickness  of  imitation,  and  facility 
of  touch  in  delineating  all  visible  objects,  so 
as  to  represent  them  truly  to  others ;  in  a 
capability  on  the  part  of  men  for  giving  clear 
directions  to  workmen,  illustrating  such  direc- 
tions by  outlines  at  once  correct  and  bold,  as 
well  as  in  uniting  utility  with  taste ;  and  on 
the  part  of  women,  for  copying  and  designing 
patterns,  marking  out  with  clearness  different 
lines  of  beauty  ;  but,  above  all,  and  here  the 
subject  assumes  its  most  important  character, 
for  sketching  with  promptness  and  precision 


all  specimens  in  natural  history,  as  well  as 
almost  every  other  branch  of  juvenile  study, 
so  as  at  once  to  strike  the  eye,  and  impress 
the  memory  of  youth— to  amuse  the  fancy, 
and  improve  the  understanding  at  the  same 
time. 

\Ve  all  know  that  even  The  rudest  draw- 
ing of  a  rat,  a  mouse,  or  a  donkey,  with  ac- 
companying lively  descriptions  of  some  of 
their  peculiar  habits,  has  power  to  fascinate 
a  group  of  children  on  a  winter's  evening, 
almost  beyond  any  other  resource;  and  if 
with  greater  ease  the  mother  could  make 
these  designs  at  once  more  spirited,  and  ex- 
actly true  to  life ;  if  also  she  could  add  an  illus- 
tration of  some  favorite  anecdote,  by  placing 
different  figures  together,  or  allowing  the 
children  to  choose  how  they  shall  be  placed, 
she  would  find  herself  in  possession  of  a 
means  of  instruction,  almost  as  refreshing  to 
herself,  as  delightful  and  invigorating  to  the 
young  minds  whose  education  is  committed 
to  her  care. 

Were  this  a  more  general  amusement  in 
private  families,  I  believe  we  should  much 
less  frequently  hear  the  impatient  exclama- 
tion—"There!  take  that,  and  be  quiet." 
"  Now,  James  and  Lucy — quarrelling  again !" 
"John,  you  naughty  boy,  let  Maria  play  with 
your  puzzle."  "  Do  tell  me  what  o'clock  it 
is,  for  I  am  distracted  with  your  noise."  But 
mothers  tell  us  on  every  hand,  that  they  do 
adopt  this  admirable  expedient  for  getting 
through  a  long  evening,  or  a  rainy  day,  by 
allowing  their  children  to  paint;  and  that 
they  find  it  answer  their  purpose  to  admira- 
tion. The  purpose  of  keeping  the  children 
quiet,  and  saving  trouble  to  the  mother,  un- 
questionably it  may  answer  ;  and  if  the  art 
of  drawing  be  considered,  as  it  too  frequently 
is,  a  matter  of  no  sort  of  moment,  then  the 
amusement  of  painting  pictures  already  made, 
is  agreeable  and  satisfactory  enough.  If, 
however,  it  is  considered  at  all  a  desirable 
thing  either  for  men  or  women,  that  they 
should  be  able  to  draw  with  accuracy  and  ease, 
no  more  effectual  means  of  preventing  this 
could  possibly  be  adopted,  than  that  of  allow- 
ing children  to  fill  up  drawings  with  color, 


THE  MOTHERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


before  they  know  any  thing  of  outh'ne  or  form. 
It  is  allowing  the  child  to  jump  at  once  to  an 
obvious  result,  and  at  the  same  time  suffering 
him  to  be  deceived  as  to  the  value  of  his 
work  ;  because  he  will  learn  in  a  very  few 
years,  that  such  a  result  is  utterly  worthless ; 
yet  having  attained  his  end,  such  as  it  was, 
he  will  not  then  be  likely,  under  such  a  disap- 
pointment, to  go  back  to  the  means  of  obtain- 
ing a  better.  He  will  in  reality  find  out  that 
he  has  been  cheating  himself  under  the  sanc- 
tion of  his  parents,  and  thus  the  moral  effect 
upon  his  character  will  be  any  thing  but  good. 

After  all,  however,  I  am  not  sure  but  that 
upon  the  principle  of  rewards  being  given  in 
kind,  a  young  designer,  after  he  has  tried  his 
best  at  outline,  may  not  now  and  then  be  al- 
lowed to  paint ;  but  his  red  houses  and  green 
smoke,  blue  men  and  yellow  women,  should 
always  be  treated  with  a  certain  degree  of 
disrespect,  and  by  no  means  should  they  be 
allowed  the  same  amount  of  credit,  as  if  he 
had  accomplished  a  drawing  of  his  own, 
however  rude  and  unattractive  to  the  mere 
observer. 

It  Eeems  rather  hard  upon  mothers  who 
have  never  acquired  the  art  of  drawing, 
even  in  the  humblest  manner,  to  urge  this 
point  so  strongly ;  and  there  are  probably 
few  who  have  not,  on  reading  the  valuable 
remarks  on  this  subject  contained  in  "  Home 
Education,"  felt  painfully  their  own  incapa- 
city for  carrying  out  the  admirable  system 
there  laid  down  ;  but  if,  because  this  genera- 
tion is  peculiarly  defective  in  one  branch  of 
learning,  the  next  must  inevitably  remain  so 
too,  we  are  indeed  in  a  hopeless  condition  ; 
and  I  write  at  the  greater  length  on  this  sub- 
ject, because  I  believe,  that  most  persons 
who  never  draw,  are  under  great  misappre- 
hensions as  to  the  talent  or  faculty  required 
to  enable  them  to  do  so.  Hence  they  com- 
plain that  they  have  no  taste,  which  generally 
means  that  they  have  no  inclination,  for  draw- 
ing ;  and  this  no  doubt  arises  from  their  not 
being  convinced  of  its  extensive  utility ;  nor, 
in  the  case  of  women,  of  the  boundless  re- 
sources it  will  place  within  their  reach,  if 
ever  they  should  have  children  to  amuse  and 


instruct.  Others  again  complain  of  their 
want  of  talent,  which  arises  from  their  never 
having  been  taught  in  the  right  manner ;  for 
as  all  persons  can  be  taught  to  write,  that  is, 
with  greater  or  less  facility,  so  there  is  no 
doubt  but  all  persons  could  be  taught  to  draw 
simple,  distinct,  and  familiar  objects,  if  they 
were  not,  by  the  process  of  instruction,  push- 
ed on  too  rapidly  to  obvious  and  immediate 
results.  Perfection  in  the  art  either  of  draw- 
ing or  painting,  so  as  to  design  with  taste, 
and  execute  with  effect,  is  a  totally  different 
matter — an  art  belonging  unquestionably  to 
the  distinguished  few,  and  the  practice  of 
which  would  in  most  cases  be  obviously  at 
variance  with  the  duties  of  a  mother. 

In  conducting  the  affairs  of  the  nursery,  it 
is  of  essential  importance  to  understand  that 
the  minds  of  children  must  always  be  at 
work.  As  it  is  necessary  to  the  bodily  health 
o/  an  infant  that  it  should  always  be  in  mo- 
tion except  when  asleep,  and  as  nature  has 
provided  for  this  requirement  by  a  perpetual 
restlessness,  often  complained  of  by  those 
who  are  unacquainted  with  its  relative  ad- 
vantages ;  so  the  mind  is  perpetually  using, 
in  some  way  or  other,  the  different  faculties 
with  which  it  is  endowed  ;  and  the  part  of 
the  mother  is  to  teach  it  how  to  use  them 
with  the  greatest  facility,  and  to  the  best  ef- 
fect The  toys  provided  for  children  in  the 
present  day,  are  generally  of  so  highly-finish- 
ed and  complete  a  kind,  that  after  the  first 
emotions  of  surprise  and  delight  have  sub- 
sided, they  fail  to  afford  any  further  enjoy- 
ment ;  and  as  there  is  nothing  more  to  be 
done  towards  completing  their  construction, 
there  only  remains  one  alternative,  that  of 
pulling  them  in  pieces.  The  rudest  machine, 
or  the  meanest  implement  of  their  own  con- 
struction,  has  often  the  power  to  please  for  a 
much  longer  time,  because  it  continues  to  be 
capable  of  improvement,  and  is  not  in  itself 
of  such  a  character  as  to  be  removed  beyond 
their  hopes  of  success.  Upon  the  same  prin- 
ciple, all  playthings  which  they  can  use,  are 
infinitely  preferable  to  such  ,s  they  can  only 
admire;  because  the  faculty  of  admiration  is 
one,  the  culture  of  which  belongs  only  to 


THE  USE  OF  A  MIND. 


81 


riper  years.  Yet  care  should  be  taken  even 
in  presenting  a  boy  with  a  book,  a  barrow,  or 
any  other  article  which  has  a  distinct  use, 
that  he  is  of  an  age  to  turn  it  to  some  ac- 
count, otherwise  he  will  bewilder,  disappoint, 
and  irritate  himself,  with  unavailing  attempts 
to  use  his  newly-acquired  treasures  as  he  sees 
them  used  by  others. 

In  all  manual  exercises,  as  well  as  in  all 
operations  of  the  mind,  we  cannot  keep  too 
constantly  in  view  the  benefit,  to  themselves 
and  to  society,  of  individuals  having  what  is 
familiarly  called,  "their  wits  about  them," 
or,  in  other  words,  being  always  ready  for 
the  occasion,  whatever  it  may  be.  How 
much  of  happiness,  as  well  as  of  general 
usefulness,  is  associated  with  this  habit,  it 
would  be  impossible  to  say.  Perhaps  we  can 
only  estimate  its  real  value,  when  connected 
in  our  practical  duties,  with  that  dreamy,  ab- 
sorbed, and  profitless  existence,  which  tends 
neither  to  individual  nor  social  benefit.  The 
prompt,  the  ready,  the  active,  those  who  are 
never  at  a  loss,  and  especially  those  who  are 
never  lost  in  self — those  who  abound  in  re- 
sources, and  those  who  know  how  to  use  all 
common  means,  who  never  hesitate  longer 
than  is  nece.ssary  to  decide,  and  then  act  im- 
mediately upon  their  own  decisions  ;  it  is 
such  persons,  taken  as  a  class — and  a  happy 
and  enviable  class  they  are — who  constitute 
the  most  valuable  portion  of  the  human  fam- 
ily ;  and,  admire  as  we  may,  the  brilliant 
though  fitful  exhibitions  of  extraordinary  tal- 
ent— reverence  as  we  may,  the  sibyl  silence 
of  genius  waiting  for  inspiration — it  is  to 
persons  who  have  early  learned  to  use  their 
own  minds  at  any  time,  and  on  any  subject, 
that  we  fly  with  our  perplexities  and  difficul- 
:ies,  secure  that  assistance  is  most  likely  to 
je  found  with  them. 

Wherever  there  are  symptoms  of  dawning 
;eniusin  a  child,  or  of  extraordinary  talent 
of  any  kind,  instead  of  anticipating  too  hast- 
ly  the  result  of  such  natural  endowments, 
and  urging  forward  the  cultivation  of  that 
peculiar  faculty  which  appears  to  be  predom- 
nant,  the  mother  ought  to  watch  carefully  in 
order  to  ascertain  whether  there  may  not  be 


a  deficiency  in  some  other  mental  qualifica- 
tion, proportioned  to  this  excess. 

If  there  be  real  genius,  it  will  be  sure  to 
develop  itself  in  due  time,  under  reasonable 
treatment;  and  long  before  the  child  who 
possesses  extraordinary  talent  arrives  at  the 
proper  age  for  turning  such  talents  to  the 
best  account,  he  will  have  felt  abundant  need 
of  clear  perceptions,  sound  judgment,  and  all 
which  is  usually  comprehended  under  the 
name  of  common  sense.  In  order  to  pass 
with  safety  along  the  stream  of  life,  under 
that  lofty  sail  which  genius  delights  to  spread, 
he  will  have  abundant  need  of  all  the  ballast 
which  a  strictly  rational  education  can  sup- 
ply. If,  in  addition  to  this,  the  character  has 
been  formed  upon  well-grounded  religious 
principles,  genius  to  such  a  child  is  capable 
of  being  a  real  blessing ;  but,  on  the  other 
hand,  we  must  not  forget,  that  without  such 
accompaniments,  it  is  equally  capable  of 
being  a  real  curse.  To  educate  a  child  to  be 
a  genius,  is  perhaps  the  greatest  absurdity  a 
parent  can  commit ;  but  to  educate  a  child 
to  be  active,  useful,  conversant  in  common 
things,  willing  to  assist  others,  and  able  to 
adapt  itself  to  circumstances  wherever  it 
may  be  placed,  is  to  furnish  it  with  the  means 
of  turning  extraordinary  talent  to  the  best 
account. 

Both  this  kind  of  talent,  and  genius,  may 
then  be  safely  left  to  the  cultivation  of  after 
years.  The  mother  has  little  to  do  with  them, 
except  to  see  that  they  are  neither  too  much 
stimulated,  nor  too  much  repressed ;  for  it  is 
possible  that  genius  may  be  crushed,  and  the 
effect  of  such  treatment  would,  in  all  proba- 
bility, be  the  same  upon  the  human  charac- 
ter, as  that  of  lopping  off  the  leading  branch 
upon  a  young  tree.  Other  branches  might 
shoot  forth,  and  all  the  vigor  of  healthy  vege- 
tation might  be  displayed,  but  nothing  could 
restore  the  beauty  of  the  tree  as  a  whole,  in 
its  original  bold  and  upward  growth. 

It  is  scarcely  necessary,  however,  to  warn 
the  mother  against  this  mode  of  treatment. 
Her  own  partial  admiration  of  her  child,  her 
own  ambition  pointing  to  its  future  course, 
will  be  sufficient  to  protect  its  genius  from  a 


THE  MOTHERS  OF  EMJLAM). 


sys'era  of  depression  emanating  from  her; 
and  the  mere  fact  of  her  natural  feelings 
being  so  warmly  engaged  on  this  side  of  the 
question,  renders  it  the  more  necessary  to 
urge  upon  her  attention,  that  apparently  more 
humble  part  of  maternal  duty,  which  con- 
sists in  adding  to  her  children's  store  of  ideas, 
in  taking  care  that  the  impressions  they  re- 
ceive are  just  and  true,  and  in  teaching  them 
how  to  use,  with  the  greatest  facility,  the 
faculties  of  their  own  minds. 

Did  not  the  habit  of  looking  for  immediate 
and  obvious  results,  withdraw  our  attention 
from  the  good  of  mankind  in  general,  and 
confine  it  too  much  to  little  points,  in  which 
our  self-interest  is  concerned,  we  should 
more  constantly  bear  in  mind,  that  it  is  not 
the  extent  of  genius  or  talent  in  a  few  in- 
dividuals which  makes  a  nation  powerful, 
great,  or  prosperous ;  but  rather  the  indus- 
trious, rational,  and  enlightened  character  of 
the  population  at  large.  It  is,  in  fact,  the 
people  upon  whom  depends  a  nation's  wealth, 
its  resources,  its  stability,  and  its  general  in- 
fluence. In  order  to  raise  the  character  of  a 
people,  it  is  necessary  that  mothers  should 
form  a  high  estimate  of  the  importance  of 
their  own  efforts  in  this  great  and  good  work. 
They  will  then  set  about  the  accomplishment 
of  it  with  earnestness  and  hope.  And  why 
should  they  not  1 — with  earnestness,  because 
it  is  an  act  of  duty  fraught  with  boundless 
and  incalculable  benefit  to  their  fellow-crea- 
tures— and  with  hope,  because  the  beneficent 
Author  of  our  existence,  never,  in  the  order 
of  his  providence,  appoints  a  task,  without 
bestowing,  in  some  measure,  the  means  by 
which  it  may  be  performed.  Thus  the  mo- 
ther who  feels  painfully  that  she  has  but 
little  capability  for  the  mental  cultivation  of 
her  children,  may  make  up  for  many  deficien- 
cies by  a  willing  mind,  and  by  the  use  of 
those  advantages  which  naturally  belong  to 
her  situation  as  a  parent ;  and  if,  possessing 
the  love  and  the  confidence  of  her  children, 
she  can  early  accustom  them  to  the  use  of 
their  minds,  they  will  not  make  the  worst 
citizens  of  the  world,  or  the  less  exemplary 
Christians,  for  having  'received  their  first 


ideas,  and  acquired  their  earliest  habits,  un- 
der the  careful  training  of  an  humble-minded 
mother. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

ELEMENTS  OF  CHARACTEK. 

ELEMENTS  of  character  may  be  said  to 
develop  themselves  when  a  child  begins 
for  the  first  time  to  be  actuated  by  motives 
distinct  from  the  operation  of  its  senses. 
Thus,  when  it  has  learned  to  prefer  the  ap- 
probation of  its  mother,  to  the  gratification  of 
its  own  appetite,  it  has  exhibited  one  of  those 
elements  of  character,  which,  in  all  probabili- 
ty, will  prove  most  important  in  its  future 
life. 

That  ceaseless  activity  of  body  and  mind 
which  has  already  been  alluded  to,  will  at 
this  stage  of  experience  become  capable  of  a 
fixed  and  definite  purpose ;  and  when  the 
ends  which  the  child  endeavors  to  attain  are 
associated  with  a  sense  of  good  and  evil,  it 
will  have  commenced  the  existence  of  a 
moral  agent,  and  as  such  will  demand  the 
assiduous  and  unremitting  attention  of  its 
mother. 

Important  as  it  is,  that  maternal  love  should 
be  so  directed  as  to  teach  the  use  of  a  mind, 
yet,  after  all,  this  part  of  a  mother's  duty 
bears  but  a  small  proportion  to  that  of  form- 
ing the  characters  of  her  children.  It  is  true, 
they  would  form  themselves,  or  rather  cir- 
cumstances would  form  them,  without  any 
instrumentality  of  hers  :  but  how  1  Can  it 
be  the  part  of  a  Christian  mother  to  leave 
circumstances  alone  to  decide  whether  her 
child  shall  be  happy  or  miserable  for  all  eter- 
nity 1  No ;  that  part  of  education  which 
consists  in  storing  the  memory,  may  possibly 
be  committed  with  propriety  to  other  hands ; 
but  as  a  mother's  instruction  is  properly 
more  moral  than  intellectual,  that  far  more 
important  part  of  education  which  consists 
in  forming  the  habits  of  children,  and  thus 
laying  the  foundation  of  character,  must  be- 
long to  the  mother. 


ELEMENTS  OF  CHARACTER. 


33 


A  mother's  superior  advantages  in  the  art 
of  communicating  ideas  has  already  been 
described  ;  and  if,  in  the  mere  act  of  impart- 
ing knowledge,  her  qualifications  are  so  ad- 
mirably adapted  to  her  duties,  how  much 
greater  must  be  their  value  in  implanting  the 
first  ideas  of  right  and  wrong,  or  rather  in 
the  great  work  of  giving  impulse  and  direc- 
tion to  the  elements  of  character,  by  inspiring 
a  love  of  the  one,  and  a  hatred  of  the  other ! 
By  what  means  could  the  mother  work  upon 
the  mind  of  her  child,  so  as  to  impart  these 
ideas,  except  by  that  close  sympathy  which 
exists  between  them,  by  the  confidence  she 
has  inspired,  and  the  love  upon  which  it  im- 
plicitly depends  ]  It  is  simply  by  the  use  of 
these  means,  that  she  is  able  to  direct  the 
love  of  her  child  to  any  thing  which  she  her- 
self regards  as  lovely,  and  to  render  odious 
in  its  eyes  whatevershe  despises  or  dislikes. 
Here  then  is  power — the  greatest  which  one 
human  being  can  possibly  exercise  over  an- 
other— the  power  to  rule  its  admiration  and 
its  disgust,  its  love  and  its  abhorrence. 

It  is  true,  the  mother  will  often  have  to 
oppose  the  appetites  and  inclinations  of  child- 
hood, but  it  is  in  her  own  peculiar  capability 
for  doing  this,  and  doing  it  effectually,  that 
we  eee  the  superiority  of  her  qualifications 
to  those  of  all  others ;  for  no  sooner  is  the 
child  assured  of  her  sympathy,  than  it  trusts 
all  its  wishes  to  her  tenderness  to  forgive,  or 
to  her  bounty  to  supply ;  no  sooner  is  it  con- 
vinced of  her  wisdom,  than  it  evinces  a  will- 
ingness to  submit,  on  the  ground  of  her 
knowing  best  what  is  for  its  good  ;  and  no 
sooner  does  it  feel  that  her  love  is  entirely 
disinterested,  and  wholly  free  from  caprice  or 
change,  than  it  yields,  under  the  satisfactory 
conviction,  that  its  present  sacrifice  will  be 
more  than  made  up  to  it  in  some  better  way. 

With  these  unquestionable  advantages, 
then,  the  mother  begins  to  question  which  of 
the  elements  of  character  displayed  by  her 
child,  she  can  turn  to  good  account.  That 
perpetual  restlessness  for  which  the  poor  little 
busybody  has  been  so  often  chidden — let  us 
hot  dismiss  that  as  a  crime,  without  some  ex- 
amination as  to  what  can  be  made  of  it.  The 


idea  that  children  must  squander  about,  and 
that  servants  must  gather  up,  prevails  almost 
universally  in  all  families.  Thus,  when  the 
little  lord  of  the  nursery  has  thrown  every- 
thing he  had  to  play  with  in  all  possible  direc- 
tions, when  he  has  pulled  the  chairs  out  of 
their  proper  places,  upset  the  stools,  and  drag- 
ged the  floorcloth  into  heaps,  he  grows  fret- 
ful and  dissatisfied  until  his  nurse  supplies 
him  with  some  other  kind  of  amusement,  or 
probably  until  she  replaces  the  furniture,  in 
order  that  he  may  have  the  pleasure  of  throw- 
ing all  things  into  confusion  again. 

But  suppose  the  same  child  was  taught — 
not  as  a  punishment,  but  cheerfully  and  kind- 
ly taught — to  put  every  thing  in  its  proper 
place  again,  as  a  means  of  restoring  order  and 
thus  pleasing  mamma,  and  making  everybo- 
dy, comfortable ;  I  believe  a  wholesome  and 
effectual  stimulus  to  activity  might  be  thus 
supplied,  «o  as  to  last  perhaps  for  another 
hour  of  amusement,  at  the  same  time  that  a 
love  of  order  might  be  inspired,  and  a  still 
more  important  desire  to  be  useful  and  kind. 
In  fact,  there  are  few  things  more  gratifying 
to  children,  than  a  belief  that  they  are  useful ; 
and  if  they  are  only  taught  to  esteem  it  a 
privilege  to  make  other  people  happy,  the 
mere  act  of  doing  so,  will  become  a  happiness 
to  them. 

While  enforcing  the  rule  of  implicit  obedi- 
ence, already  recommended,  the  mother  will 
sometimes  be  glad  to  take  advantage  of  such 
helps  as  may  be  at  hand  ;  and  in  this  respect, 
the  regularity  of  time — even  the  stroke  of  the 
clock  which  stands  in  the  hall — may  be  made 
of  essential  service.  It  is  an  excellent  thing 
to  accustom  children  to  be  obedient  to  time — 
to  do,  or  cease  to  do,  certain  things  at  certain 
hours ;  because  as  time  never  varies,  there 
can  be  no  misunderstanding  on  this  point. 
Habits  of  punctuality  will  be  thus  induced,  and 
a  general  impression  made  upon  the  mind 
that  there  are  certain  laws  by  which  events 
are  regulated,  over  which  we  cannot  possibly 
exercise  the  least  control. 

An  education  of  mere  rule,  however,  would 
be  but  a  very  unsatisfactory  one.  Among 
the  many  unlooked-for  incidents  of  human 


THE  MOTHERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


life,  there  must  be  room  left  for  the  operation 
of  motive,  and  the  reference  of  choice  from  a 
lesser  to  a  greater  good.  Thus  when  chil- 
dren begin  to  understand  and  appreciate  the 
reasons  why  certain  rules  are  broken,  it  is  the 
part  of  the  mother  to  allow  such  deviations 
as  she  may  consider  most  conducive  to  the 
good  of  her  family,  taking  care  that  the  rule 
of  obedience  to  her  wishes  still  remains  invi- 
olate. 

We  will  suppose  a  little  group  of  children 
learning  their  morning  lessons,  to  which  it  is 
the  rule  of  the  house  that  they  shall  closely 
apply  until  the  clock  strikes  twelve.  On  one 
particular  morning,  however,  an  aged  grand- 
mother arrives  about  eleven,  having  walked 
some  distance  for  the  purpose  of  seeing  the 
children,  and  having  but  an  hour  to  stay. 
Are  they  then  to  go  on  with  their  lessons  un- 
til the  usual  time  1  Certainly  not ;  because  in 
this  case  the  higher  duty  of  giving  pleasure, 
and  showing  kindness  and  respect  to  an  aged 
relative,  supersedes  the  duty  of  maintaining  a 
rule.  And  thus  it  is,  as  children  advance  in 
years,  the  mother  has  to  be  perpetually  choos- 
ing for  them,  not  only  the  good  in  preference 
to  the  evil,  but  also  the  greater  good  in  pref- 
erence to  the  less. 

Among  the  first  convictions  impressed  up- 
on the  mind  of  a  child,  should  be  one  of  its 
own  helplessness,  as  well  as  its  own  ignorance. 
The  pleasure  of  being  useful  is  sometimes 
turned  to  bad  account  under  the  management 
of  nurses,  who  go  the  length  of  persuading 
children  that  they  cannot  put  the  nursery  in 
order  without  them,  nor  lift  the  toys  upon 
the  table  without  their  help,  thus  inspiring 
premature,  as  well  as  false  ideas,  of  their  own 
importance,  than  which  nothing  can  be  more 
undesirable.  On  the  other  hand,  however,  an 
equal  degree  of  care  must  be  exercised,  that 
children  are  neither  blamed,  nor  unnecessari- 
ly put  down  and  humbled,  either  because  of 
their  ignorance  or  their  helplessness.  Since 
it  is  no  greater  fault  of  theirs  that  they  are 
helpless,  than  that  they  are  little,  they  should 
only  be  made  sensible  of  this  fact  so  far  as  to 
render  them  willing  to  receive  instruction  and 
assistance,  as  something  which  is  necessary 


to  their  safety  and  well-being.  In  the  same 
way  they  should  be  made  to  understand,  that 
since  as  little  children  they  enjoy  many  pleas- 
ures in  which  older  persons  could  not  with 
propriety  participate;  so  there  are  certain 
things — particular  kinds  of  food,  for  instance — 
which  they  see  every  day  partaken  of  by  oth- 
ers, but  which,  on  account  of  their  being  little 
children,  are  not  suitable  for  them. 

I  am  aware  that  in  this  instance  my  opin- 
ions differ  from  those  of  many  generous  and 
kind-hearted  mothers,  who  declare  that  they 
could  not  allow  anything  at  their  tables,  of 
which  their  children  might  not  partake.  But 
my  idea  is,  that  we  should  begin  early  with 
children  the  kind  of  discipline  which  they  will 
inevitably  find  themselves  subjected  to  in  af- 
ter life  ;  and  as  they  will  often  during  illness 
have  to  abstain  from  certain  kinds  of  food  ; 
often — nay,  almost  at  every  meal,  have  to  set 
a  limit  to  their  indulgence  of  natural  appetite ; 
and  often,  in  the  great  duty  of  adapting  them- 
selves to  circumstances,  have,  in  all  probabili- 
ty, to  see  their  own  tables  supplied  very  differ- 
ently from  those  of  their  wealthier  neighbors  ; 
I  would  begin  early  with  the  course  of  train- 
ing most  likely  to  render  such  crosses  of  in- 
clination so  habitual  as  scarcely  to  be  felt ; 
nor  can  I  see  that  there  is  more  injustice  in 
denying  a  great  variety  of  food  to  a  child  be- 
cause it  is  little,  than  because  it  is  ill. 

To  learn  our  true  position  in  life,  and  to  be 
satisfied  with  it,  whether  in  childhood  or  old 
age,  is  one  of  the  most  important  of  human 
attainments ;  and  if  a  mere  child  is  allowed 
to  consider  itself  upon  the  same  general  foot- 
ing as  a  man  or  woman  of  thirty,  it  will  either 
have  to  endure  being  undeceived  by  some 
painful  and  humiliating  process,  or  else  it 
will  continue  committing  acts  of  egregious 
folly  for  the  remainder  of  its  life. 

Whenever  children  exhibit  that  kind  of  ar- 
rogance and  self-sufficiency,  which  can  only 
exist  in  connection  with  extreme  ignorance, 
it  is  best  to  let  them  try  some  of  the  mighty 
feats  of  which  they  boast,  and,  without  ex- 
ulting in  their  disappointment,  simply  leave 
them  to  thevconsequences  of  their  own  pre- 
sumption. 


ELEMENTS  OF  CHARACTER. 


35 


But  in  order  to  bring  all  children  to  a  right 
sense  of  their  real  capabilities,  as  well  as  their 
true  position,  they  should  often  be  thrown  up- 
on their  own  resources.  By  having  amuse- 
ment too  constantly  supplied,  they  seldom 
learn  to  know  what  it  is  they  really  want ; 
and  thus  will  sometimes  grow  fretful  in  the 
midst  of  a  world  of  toys,  just  as  they  become 
feverish  and  ill,  in  consequence  of  being  fed 
so  often,  that  they  have  no  time  to  be  hun- 
gry. One  of  the  most  striking  characteris- 
tics exhibited  by  children,  is  the  alacrity  with 
which  some  will  seek  and  provide  their  own 
resources  ;  and  if  their  mother  wishes  that 
they  should  grow  up  industrious,  useful,  and 
happy,  she  will  afford  them  every  encourage- 
ment in  doing  this.  She  will  consequently 
allow  them  materials  for  creating  their  own 
amusement,  rather  than  finished  toys ;  and 
whenever  they  have  kept  steadily  to  one  ob- 
ject, so  as  to  accomplish  a  design,  however 
simple,  rude,  or  worthless  as  a  whole,  mater- 
nal love  should  seize  the  opportunity  for  be- 
stowing a  large  amount  of  approbation  upon 
the  effort. 

Much  also  may  be  done  by  a  mother  in  the 
way  of  stimulating  a  laudable  ambition  in  her 
children  to  accomplish  certain  ends  ;  but  she 
must  be  especially  careful  not  to  go  too  far, 
or  to  encourage  their  attempting  what  is  im- 
possible to  them.  It  is  unspeakably  distress- 
ing to  hear  hasty  and  inconsiderate  parents 
sometimes  insisting  upon  what  is  impractica- 
ble, and  going  on  to  declare  that  their  chil- 
dren must  and  shall  do  certain  things  ;  with- 
out taking  the  trouble  to  ascertain  whether 
there  may  not  be  some  insurmountable  obsta- 
cle in  the  way.  Indeed,  notwithstanding  all 
the  boasted  tenderness  called  into  exercise  on 
behalf  of  children,  there  is  also  a  vast  amount 
of  cruelty  practised  upon  them,  purely  from 
want  of  thought.  And  then  the  absurdities 
which  are  proposed  to  them  as  reasons  for 
submission !  I  remember  to  have  been  told, 
night  after  night,  that  I  must  eat  all  my  ap- 
ple-pie, a  thing  to  which  I  had  a  particular 
aversion,  because  there  were  so  many  poor 
children  who  would  be  glad  to  have  it.  Now, 
how  these  poor  children  should  be  benefited 


by  my  eating  what  they  liked,  and  I  did  not, 
I  never  could  make  out ;  as  little  could  I 
imagine  how  it  should  be  a  merit  in  me  to  eat 
up  all,  when  they  would  ,have  been  so  glad 
to  have  a  part.  She  was  a  good,  kind  nurse, 
however,  who  used  to  tell  me  this,  and  main- 
tained the  highest  character  as  a  servant. 
The  question  is  not  with  such,  but  whether 
there  may  not  be  mothers  who  err  almost  as 
strangely  in  their  moral  training. 

Dr.  Johnson  has  told  us,  that  pity  is  not  a 
natural  feeling — that  it  must  be  taught  to 
children  before  they  can  exercise  its  soothing 
power.  And  certainly  it  has  often  appeared 
to  me  one  of  the  least  attractive  features  of 
infancy,  that  children  should  evince  a  mis- 
chievous desire  for  getting  one  another  into 
scrapes.  Not  that  they  delight  in  seeing  the 
punishment  they  have  brought  upon  their 
playmates  actually  inflicted :  the  spectacle  of 
suffering  appears  to  shock  them,  in  its  abso- 
lute reality.  But  still  they  run  and  tell,  when 
there  is  no  occasion  to  do  so,  that  such  an 
one — perhaps  their  favorite  companion — has 
been  committing  an  act  of  delinquency,  the 
disclosure  of  which  they  know  will  bring  dis- 
grace and  suffering  upon  the  offender. 

In  the  same  way,  we  often  see  children 
tormenting  animals,  even  the  very  pets  they 
consider  as  their  own,  and  appear  at  other 
times  to  love  ;  not  certainly  in  ignorance  that 
there  is  torment  in  what  they  are  doing,  but 
purely,  as  it  would  seem,  from  an  inclination 
to  give  pain.  I  am  the  more  disposed  to 
think  there  is  this  element  in  the  human 
character,  because  I  know  individuals,  kind 
and  benevolent  in  the  general  tone  of  their 
feelings,  who,  from  never  having  been  taught 
to  pity  the  sufferings  of  the  animal  creation, 
inflict  the  most  wanton  cruelty  simply  as  an 
amusement. 

It  becomes  then  an  important  part  of  a 
mother's  duty,  to  teach  her  children  the  love- 
liness, as  well  as  the  utility  of  pity  ;  for  with- 
out pity,  there  would  be  little  done  in  the 
world  towards  relieving  individual  distress. 
Pity  is  the  forerunner  of  help  ;  and  whoever 
cannot  pity,  is  without  the  mainspring  of  all 
human  kindness. 


36 


THE  MOTHERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


I  have  sometimes  thought  that  by  being 
allowed  the  care  of  tame  animal?,  children 
might  be  taught  to  feel  both  pity  and  sym- 
pathy for  this  portion  of  the  creation.  But 
then  there  are  so  very  few  animals  capable 
of  being  made  so  happy  in  confinement,  as 
they  would  be  in  their  natural  state,  that 
there  appears  considerable  danger,  lest  we 
should  by  this  means  be  guilty  of  inflicting 
misery  for  the  sake  of  seeing  it  pitied.  There 
are  some,  however,  such  as  dogs,  rabbits, 
Guinea-pigs,  and  some  kinds  of  birds,  which, 
if  not  confined  too  closely,  and  carefully  sup- 
plied with  their  favorite  food,  exhibit  every 
symptom  of  cheerfulness,  and  even  satisfac- 
tion in  their  lot.  Among  these,  there  will 
unavoidably  be  deaths  and  disasters  of  va- 
rious kinds,  calculated  to  call  forth  feelings 
of  pity  ;  and  the  boy,  who  in  early  childhood 
has  really  loved  his  own  dog,  will  be  likely 
to  show  kindness  to  ail  others,  for  the  sake 
of  that  long-remembered  favorite. 

Many  important  facts  in  natural  history 
may  also,  by  the  same  means,  be  impressed 
upon  the  minds  of  children,  so  as  never  to 
be  forgotten  in  after  life ;  especially  that  im- 
portant fact,  that  in  connection  with  animal 
life  in  a  healthy  state,  there  is  always,  to  a 
certain  extent,  a  capability  both  of  enjoyment 
and  suffering.  The  child  learns,  too,  in  the 
same  way,  its  first  moral  lesson — that,  by  the 
exercise  of  kindness,  the  creatures  depend- 
ent upon  its  care  are  made  happy ;  while  by 
neglect  or  unkindness  they  are  as  certainly 
made  miserable. 

I  cannot  then  believe,  but  that  it  might  be 
a  help  to  mothers  in  the  moral  training  of 
their  children,  to  allow  them  the  care  of  ani- 
mals ;  because,  without  drawing  into  the 
scheme  of  education  these  lower  creatures, 
it  is  impossible  that  a  child  should  stand  in 
the  position  of  a  responsible  being  as  regards 
the  welfare  of  others.  If,  however,  the 
mother  should  so  far  lose  sight  of  the  end 
she  ought  to  have  in  view,  as  to  permit  her 
child  merely  to  caress  its  favorites,  instead 
of  providing  for  their  support,  and  making 
them  comfortable  in  every  way ;  if  the  gar- 
dener is  to  feed  the  rabbits,  and  little  rniss 


and  master  are  to  call  them  their  own  ;  or  if 
the  housemaid  is  to  put  the  aviary  in  order, 
while  they  fondle  the  birds ;  then,  indeed,  the 
dignified  sense  of  being  possessors  of  property 
had  better  be  done  away  with  altogether,  for 
any  good  it  is  likely  to  effect.  Better,  a  thou- 
sand times,  to  open  the  cage  or  the  rabbit- 
house,  and  let  the  captives  go,  than  suffer 
little  masters  and  mistresses  to  grow  up  in 
the  belief  that  they  are  really  kind,  when 
they  do  nothing  towards  putting  their  kind 
feelings  into  operation  for  the  good  of  others. 
If,  too,  the  mother  should  be  so  negligent  as 
to  allow  creatures  thus  confined  to  suffer 
from  neglect,  she  will,  as  the  instrument  of 
inflicting  misery,  be  little  qualified  for  teach- 
ing her  children  how  to  pity.  The  only  safe 
and  effectual  method  of  turning  this  system 
to  good  account,  is  for  the  mother  to  inspect, 
or  to  depute  some  one  else  to  watch  over  the 
welfare  of  the  animals  for  their  good ;  while, 
for  the  good  of  her  children,  she  allows  them 
to  act  as  if  they  were  the  only  responsible 
agents  in  the  whole  matter.  All  neglect  must 
therefore  be  chargeable  upon  them ;  while 
the  health,  happiness,  and  general  prosperity 
of  the  establishment,  must  be  attributed,  so 
far  as  it  can  be  with  justice,  to  their  good 
management. 

It  is  a  remarkable  fact,  that  the  most  amia- 
ble mothers  sometimes  train  up  the  most  un- 
amiable  children.  This,  however,  will  only 
be  found  to  be  the  case  where  the  mother  is 
either  ignorant  or  inconsiderate.  A  woman 
who  is  merely  amiable,  and  who  has  never 
accustomed  herself  to  think  of  the  moral  ten- 
dency of  certain  actions,  who  only  desires 
that  her  children  should  be  made  happy  for 
the  time  being,  without  any  idea  of  their  fu- 
ture welfare,  will  punish  and  deny  herself  to 
almost  any  extent,  for  the  purpose  of  pro- 
curing them  a  momentary  gratification  ;  and 
then  perhaps  she  will  feel  hurt  at  their  want 
of  gratitude  and  esteem  towards  herself. 

This,  as  well  as  other  strange  anomalies  in 
the  characters  of  what  are  called  amiable 
women,  have  done  much  to  convince  me,  that 
sound  principle  and  common  sense,  with  un- 
questionably a  due  proportion  of  warmheart- 


ELEMENTS     OF  CHARACTER. 


37 


edness,  are  in  the  long-run  more  conducive 
to  individual,  as  well  as  social  happiness,  than 
those  ungoverned  springs  of  tenderness  and 
love,  which  burst  forth  and  exhaust  them- 
selves, without  calculation  or  restraint. 

A  merely  amiable  woman,  who  has  never 
submitted  her  feelings  to  the  government  of 
common  sense,  will  reject  the  idea  of  its  be- 
ing a  duty  to  make  her  own  comfort  and 
convenience  objects  of  primary  consideration 
amongst  her  children.  She  will  reject  this 
idea,  under  the  impression  that  it  is  too  self- 
ish for  her  to  act  upon.  Her  principle  is  one 
of  disinterested  love,  and  therefore  she  never 
places  herself  in  the  way  of  her  children's 
gratification,  never  requires  any  thing  of  them 
towards  her  own  comfort,  allows  them  to  eat 
all  their  good  things  without  asking  her  to 
partake,  and  to  seize  every  means  of  gratifi- 
cation which  may  fall  in  their  way,  without 
the  slightest  reference  to  her.  That  such 
children  will  naturally  grow  up  greedy,  self- 
ish, and  regardless  of  their  mother,  it  is 
scarcely  necessary  to  say.  Yet  what  is  to  be 
done  where  the  mother  is  so  amiable,  so 
meek,  and  so  disinterested,  that  she  abso- 
lutely cannot  consent  to  make  herself  an 
object  of  consideration  ? 

It  would  certainly  be  a  very  interesting 
and  charming  alternative  in  this  difficult 
case,  if,  while  the  sweet  mother  should  pur- 
posely shrink  into  nothing  in  comparison 
with  her  children,  the  father  would  draw  her 
merits  forth  to  view,  and  place  her  first  on 
every  occasion  in  the  attention  and  regard 
of  his  family.  Such  a  picture  of  domestic 
life  might  indeed  embellish  the  pages  of  a 
novel ;  but  unfortunately  the  real  world  in 
which  we  live  is  so  constituted  that  fathers 
of  families  have  little  time  for  adorning  their 
wives  with  honors  which  they  blush  to  wear. 
Fathers  of  families  in  the  present  day,  and 
the  fact  cannot  be  acknowledged  without  se- 
rious regret,  are  for  the  most  part  too  deeply 
engaged  in  the  pursuit  of  objects  widely  dif- 
fering in  their  nature  from  those  which  be- 
long to  the  moral  discipline  of  home  ;  and 
therefore  it  becomes  more  the  duty  of  mo- 
thers, especially  those  of  the  middle  class  of 


society,  to  look  beyond  the  things  of  the  mo- 
ment, to  consider  the  almost  double  respon- 
sibility which  devolves  upon  them,  and  to 
inquire  earnestly  into  the  probable  means  of 
ensuring  the  future  good  of  their  children. 

It  is  not,  however,  so  generally  from  an 
excess  of  humility  that  mothers  neglect  the 
opportunity,  while  their  children  are  young, 
of  inspiring  them  with  a  grateful  regard  for 
the  maternal  character,  as  from  a  mistaken 
idea  that  in  the  natural  relation  of  a  child  to 
its  mother,  there  exists  a  bond  of  such  inhe- 
rent power,  that  circumstances  can  neither 
strengthen  nor  destroy  it.  They  forget  that 
we  do  not  love  our  relations  simply  because 
they  are  such,  and  that  even  the  revered 
name  of  mother  derives  its  sacred  and  endear- 
ing character  from  the  associations  of  early 
life,  rather  than  from  any  feeling  of  mere  rela- 
tionship on  the  part  of  the  child ;  though  it  is 
a  great  happiness  that  in  after  life,  and  when 
these  associations  have  been  tender  and  en- 
dearing, the  idea  of  relationship  gives  stability 
and  warmth  to  our  feelings  of  affection. 

Of  all  the  disappointments  which  assail  the 
peace  of  mothers,  and  unquestionably  they 
are  many,  I  believe  those  which  originate  in 
the  mistaken  notion  here  alluded  to,  are  by 
far  the  most  numerous  ;  and  if  the  wounded 
feeling  which  in  after  years  so  often  takes 
possession  of  the  maternal  breast  on  finding 
that  all  the  personal  sufferings  endured,  the 
sacrifices  made,  and  the  care  bestowed  upon 
the  helplessness  of  childhood,  seem  to  be 
forgotten  as  regards  the  tender  and  devoted 
being  from  whom  originated  this  constant 
flow  of  disinterested  love — if  such  feelings 
could  be  obviated  by  the  exercise  of  a  little 
more  calculation  as  to  cause  and  effect  in 
the  training  of  childhood,  what  a  different 
position  the  mothers  of  some  families  might 
hold  !  while,  in  proportion  to  the  satisfaction 
of  their  own  minds,  would  be  the  increase  of 
their  moral  influence  over  their  children,  ex- 
tending in  all  probability  to  the  end  of  life. 

I  cannot  help  again  observing  here,  that 
there  are  few  things  in  this  world,  over  which 
one  feels  more  inclined  to  lament,  than  the 
total  waste  of  good  feeling — the  utter  failure 


38 


THE  MOTHERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


of  the  best  motives  from  the  want  of  a  little 
knowledge  or  a  little  forethought,  as  to  the 
surest  means  of  carrying  them  into  effect — 
That  it  is  peculiarly  the  lot  of  woman  to 
wear  herself  out  in  this  fruitless  expenditure, 
has  been  said  and  sung  by  many  a  feeling 
writer,  and  by  none  more  sweetly  than  our 
own  lamented  poetess — 

"  Her  lot  is  on  you — silent  tears  to  weep, 
And  patient  smiles  to  wear  through  suffering's 
hour, 

And  sumless  riches  from  affection's  deep 
To  pour  on  broken  reeds — a  wasted  shower ; 

And  to  make  idols,  and  to  find  them  clay, 
And  to  bewail  such  worship.    .  .  .-  .   ." 

But  why  is  it  so  7  For  no  other  reason  than 
because  woman  considers  it  more  beautiful 
to  feel  than  to  think.  And  so  perhaps  it  is. 
Yet  that  she  should  think  sufficiently  to  make 
her  feelings  tell  upon  the  welfare  of  the  be- 
ings whose  happiness  she  has  so  much  at 
heart,  is  the  very  point  which,  in  looking  up- 
on the  world,  we  long  to  urge  upon  women 
in  general,  and  especially  upon  mothers. 

Among  the  elements  of  human  character 
most  justly  valued  in  society,  and  especially 
in  the  home  circle,  are  gratitude  and  gene- 
rosity. It  would  seem  that  the  former  of 
these  might  naturally  grow  out  of  the  situa- 
tion of  a  young  child  dependent  upon  others 
for  the  supply  of  every  want,  and  the  gratifi- 
cation of  every  wish.  We  see,  however, 
that  this  is  far  from  being  the  case  ;  for  those 
very  children  who  are  the  most  unsparingly 
indulged  are  generally  the  most  ungrateful. 
Indeed,  how  should  they  be  otherwise?  -In- 
dulgence does  not  make  them  happy ;  and 
we  find,  throughout  the  world,  that  gratitude 
is  not  proportioned  to  the  bestowment  of 
favors,  but  to  the  benefit  we  are  sensible  of 
deriving  from  them.  It  is  well,  however,  to 
begin  by  instilling  ideas  of  gratitude,  if  not 
actual  sensations,  whenever  a  child  is  the 
subject  of  kindness  from  a  friend.  Children 
should  never  be  allowed  to  forget  who  gave 
them  any  of  their  toys,  who  took  them  to 
see  any  gratifying  sight,  or  who  procured 
them  the  means  of  extraordinary  enjoyment 
in  any  other  way.  Above  all,  the  mother 


ought  not  to  be  so  fastidious,  so  guilty  of  false 
delicacy,  as  to  leave  herself  out  of  the  ques- 
tion in  her  efforts  to  inspire  gratitude ;  for 
without  any  assumption  of  merit  above  mo- 
thers in  general,  or  in  fact  any  thing  bordering 
upon  self-praise,  she  may  distinctly  set  before 
her  children  the  innumerable  benefits  they 
derive  from  maternal  care.  She  may  point 
to  the  circumstances  of  orphans  destitute  of 
all  such  benefits  ;  and  she  may  even  describe 
occasionally  to  the  older  ones,  her  own  suf- 
ferings and  privations  in  the  discharge  of 
her  duty  to  the  younger.  This,  however, 
should  be  done  without  fretfulness  and  with- 
out murmuring  ;  for  to  complain  to  children 
that  they  are  destructive  of  their  mother's 
peace  and  comfort,  is  infinitely  worse  than  to 
leave  them  in  total  ignorance  that  either  the 
one  or  the  other  is  capable  of  being  disturbed. 

It  might  seem,  on  a  superficial  view  of  the 
subject,  that  gratitude  was  but  a  little  thing 
to  instil  into  the  minds  of  children,  unquali- 
fied as  they  naturally  are,  to  render  it  pro- 
ductive of  practical  results,  so  as  in  any 
measure  to  repay  their  benefactors ;  but  here 
we  err,  as  usual,  by  looking  to  immediate 
consequences,  rather  than  to  the  future  bene- 
fit of  the  rising  generation.  It  is  certainly  a 
little  thing  for  a  child  to  bring  the  first  rose  it 
gathers  to  its  mother,  because  it  knows  that 
she  is  doing  something  every  day,  and  al- 
most every  hour,  for  its  good ;  but  it  is  not  a 
little  thing,  that  as  children  grow  up  to  be 
men  and  women,  they  should  treasure  in 
their  hearts  the  sweet  remembrance  of  bene- 
fits received,  that  they  should  still  yearn  in 
after  years  to  pay  back  again  some  portion 
of  the  debt;  and  above  all,  having  early 
learned  their  own  relative  insignificance  and 
helplessness,  and  their  consequent  depend- 
ence upon  the  kindness  of  parents  and 
friends — it  is  not  a  little  thing  that  they 
should  throw  all  these  feelings  into  a  higher 
channel,  and  refer  them  to  the  Giver  of 
every  blessing — the  Friend  in  every  hour  of 
need. 

With  regard  to  feelings  of  gratitude,  per- 
haps more  than  any  other  which  claim  the 
general  approbation  of  mankind,  selfishness, 


ELEMENTS  OF  CHARACTER. 


pride,  and  worldly-mindedness  too  often 
stand  in  the  way  of  our  seeing  their  real 
value.  The  various  imperfections  of  those 
of  our  fellow-creatures  from  whom  we  re- 
ceive benefits,  seem  also  to  afford  us  an  ex- 
cuse for  the  absence  of  gratitude  towards 
them;  we  find  too  that  their  kind  services 
are  not  always  such  as  do  us  any  real  good ; 
and  thus  we  go  on  narrowing  the  circle  of 
our  pleasurable  sensations,  and  hardening 
our  hearts  against  those  genial  influences 
which  would  make  us  both  happier  and  better 
than  we  are. 

By  excluding  from  our  minds  the  feeling  of 
gratitude  to  our  fellow-creatures,  it  ceases  to 
be  habitual ;  and  thus,  when  we  strive  to 
call  it  forth  in  our  religious  exercises,  or  when 
contemplating  the  good  providence  of  God,  it 
is  scarcely  probable  that  a  sensation  so 
strange  to  the  accustomed  tone  of  our  minds 
should  come  at  the  moment  it  is  wanted.  It 
is  true  that  expressions  of  gratitude  abound 
in  all  our  exercises  of  prayer  and  praise, 
in  all  our  advice,  in  all  our  warnings, 
and  in  all  the  consolations  we  would  of- 
fer to  the  suffering  or  destitute  ;  but  is 
the  feeling  there  1  Alas !  how  often  has 
the  Christian  to  lament  that  he  cannot  throw 
the  full  force  of  his  warmest  emotions  into 
the  language  he  is  uttering — that  he  cannot, 
from  the  depths  of  his  own  heart,  go  along 
with  the  inspired  Psalmist  in  those  outbursts 
of  gratitude,  in  which  the  harmony  of  heaven 
seems  blended  with  the  poetry  of  earth  ! 

Still  there  are  seasons  in  the  past  experi- 
ence of  all  who  are  capable  of  feeling,  when 
emotions  of  gratitude  have  passed  over  the 
soul  like  a  fresh  torrent  over  the  parched  and 
arid  soil,  leaving  beauty  and  fertility  in  its 
track.  To  find  in  the  midst  of  trouble,  that 
some  one,  of  whose  kindness  we  had  never 
dreamed,  has  been  making  interest  in  our 
favor ;  that  some  friend  has  been  secretly 
working  for  our  good  ;  that  a  sister  or  a 
brother  has  been  making  some  sacrifice,  to 
serve  us ;  that  a  father  or  a  mother  has  been 
praying  for  us  when  we  have  gone  astray  ; 
and  when  one  or  all  of  these  discoveries 
have  been  made,  to  throw  open  our  hearts 


without  suspicion  and  without  reserve  before 
our  benefactors,  so  as  to  let  them  see  and 
feel  our  gratitude— surely  this  does  good 
alike  to  "  him  that  gives,"  as  well  as  to  the 
grateful  recipient  of  such  kindness. 

It  must  do  good  ;  for  there  is  no  sensation 
approaching  so  nearly  to  that  which  the 
scheme  of  man's  salvation  is  calculated  to 
inspire  in  the  breast  of  the  true  believer,  as 
that  of  intense  and  fervent  gratitude  ;  and, 
blessed  be  God,  there  is  no  sensation  so  near- 
ly allied  to  perfect  happiness.  Here  then  is 
benevolence — here  is  mercy — here  is  cause 
for  gratitude  on  earth  and  praise  in  heaven ! 
that  the  very  feeling  by  which  the  Christian 
is  most  closely  bound  to  the  service  of  his 
Maker,  is  that  which,  throughout  all  human 
nature,  is  the  most  intima.tely  associated  with 
the  purest  enjoyment. 

That  real  gratitude— that  to  which  the 
heart  surrenders  itself  without  reserve— is 
the  happiest  sensation  experienced  on  earth, 
we  have  probably  all  felt  at  different  times, 
and  in  a  manner  adapted  to  our  own  habits 
and  associations — some  on  entering  the  house 
of  prayer,  some  on  the  recovery  of  a  beloved 
friend  from  illness,  some  on  returning  home, 
and  some  on  going  forth  under  favorable 
auspices;  while  others  have  found  them- 
selves most  overpowered  by  emotions  of 
gratitude,  they  scarcely  know  how,  or  why. 
Perhaps  in  a  solitary  walk  over  green  fields 
on  a  summer's  day,  they  have  paused  by  a 
rivulet,  to  gaze  upon  half-hidden  flowers, 
and  to  listen  to  the  hum  of  the  wandering 
bee,  until,  startled  by  a  softer  note,  they  have 
looked  up,  and  seen  the  woodpigeon  sitting 
in  the  boughs  of  a  tall  tree,  through  which 
the  sunlight  glistened.  And  then,  undisturb- 
ed by  these  sweet  natural  sounds  and  sights, 
a  solemn  stillness  has  fallen  upon  their  souls ; 
and  while  a  vision  of  deep  thought  has 
made  evident  the  presence  of  the  Supreme, 
the  Infinite,  the  Allwise,  they  have  felt  them- 
selves remembered — cared  for — kept  as  it 
were  in  the  hollow  of  his  hand ;  and  thus 
they  have  poured  forth  their  gratitude  in 
prayer,  such  as  falls  again  like  dew  upon  the 
heart  from  which  it  springs. 


40 


THE  MOTHERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


Oh  !  who  would  exchange  such  moments 
for  the  wealth  of  worlds  ! — or  who,  if  by  any 
effort  of  love,  they  could  be  procured  for 
others,  would  not  begin  in  early  childhood  to 
cultivate  a  soil  which  is  capable  of  producing 
so  rich  a  harvest  of  pure  and  invigorating 
joy? 


CHAPTER  V. 

GENEROSITY  AND  AFFECTION. 

ON  the  first  view  of  the  subjects  which  are 
to  occupy  this  chapter,  it  would  almost  seem 
to  be  a  waste  of  words  to  commend  them  to 
the  reader's  notice,  so  uniformly  is  the  opinion 
of  mankind  engaged  in  their  favor.  A  vast 
amount  of  praise,  however,  is  sometimes  lav- 
ished upon  acts  of  generosity,  without  con- 
sidering what  it  is  we  are  actually  praising. 

Children  should  never  be  commended  for 
giving  what  costs  them  no  sacrifice  to  part 
with.  Where  this  rule  is  not  observed,  we 
often  see  a  spurious  kind  of  generosity  pre- 
vailing in  families,  the  members  of  which 
grow  up  with  a  mistaken  notion,  that  in  the 
mere  act  of  giving,  there  is  a  degree  of  merit 
upon  which  they  congratulate  themselves, 
when,  in  reality,  they  have  only  been  enjoy- 
ing the  highest  of  all  luxuries. 

In  order  to  obviate  some  of  the  evils  arising 
out  of  this  mistake,  children  should  early  be 
taught  to  offer  a  part  of  their  sweetmeats  to 
each  other,  but  especially  to  their  parents; 
and  what  is  more,  the  parents  should  actual- 
ly take  what  is  offered — not  merely  that  tiny 
crumb  which  the  tender  mother  breaks  off, 
and  with  disproportioned  thanks  pretends  to 
eat  This  method  of  commending  gener- 
osity does  a  two-fold  injury ;  in  the  first 
place,  by  deceiving  the  child  into  a  belief  that 
it  is  generous,  when  it  is  not ;  and  in  the  sec- 
ond, by  inducing  a  confidence  that  it  will 
suffer  no  loss  by  the  effort  it  is  making.  We 
should  be  sincere  with  children  in  acts,  as 
well  as  in  words.  Parents  ought  therefore  not 
only  to  take  a  crumb,  but  occasionally  a  good 


large  portion  of  what  is  offered  them,  so  as 
to  produce  in  the  minds  of  their  children  a 
conviction,  which  will  be  of  infinite  service 
to  them  in  after  life,  that  the  true  value  of  all 
generosity  consists  in  the  good  it  imparts 
to  others,  not  in  the  credit  it  procures  for 
ourselves. 

It  is  not  difficult  to  discover  when  a  false 
system  of  pretended  giving  and  pretended 
taking  has  been  practised  in  a  family,  by  the 
blank  and  disappointed  look  of  the  little 
giver,  if  a  portion  unexpectedly  large  is 
taken  from  its  hand  ;  as  well  as  by  the  trem- 
bling and  hesitation  of  that  hand,  and  the 
fearfulness  with  which  it  is  drawn  back,  the 
next  time  the  ceremony  of  pretended  giving 
has  to  be  performed  towards  the  individual 
who  happened  previously  to  take  too  much. 
Never,  it  may  safely  be  said,  were  the 
elements  of  a  truly  generous  character  un- 
folded and  brought  to  perfection  by  such  a 
system  as  this — a  system  which,  so  far  as  it 
encourages  self-deception,  and  the  substitu- 
tion of  mere  pretence  for  what  is  real,  just, 
and  true,  is  exactly  so  much  worse  than  ab- 
solute greediness. 

If  children  must  be  greedy,  let  them  by  all 
means  run  first  into  the  garden,  and  devour 
the  ripe  fruit  before  any  one  else  has  discov- 
ered that  it  is  ripe ;  but  do  not  let  them  come 
in  to  offer  a  small  portion  of  it  to  mamma, 
in  order  to  obtain  her  praises,  though  all  the 
while  feeling  perfectly  secure  against  any 
diminution  of  their  own  selfish  enjoyment 

There  is  no  need,  however,  that  children 
should  be  greedy ;  because  it  is  in  the  power 
of  almost  every  mother,  to  teach  them  that 
there  is  a  higher  enjoyment  than  that  of 
merely  satisfying  their  own  appetites.  Sup- 
pose, for  instance,  it  should  be  the  establish- 
ed rule  in  a  family  that  all  first  fruits  should 
be  offered  to  the  parents,  and  that  they 
should  be  appropriated  entirely,  but  still 
thankfully,  by  them  ; — received  simply  as 
their  due,  but  still  acknowledged  with  every 
token  of  affection.  For  those  self-devoted 
and  uncalculating  mothers,  to  whom  allusion 
has  been  made,  I  am  aware  it  would  be  dif- 
ficult to  do  this,  or  to  maintain  any  rule  by 


GENEROSITY  AND  AFFECTION 


41 


which  they  would  themselves  be  made  first 
in  their  children's  consideration ;  but  could 
they  once  be  made  witnesses  of  that  higher, 
purer  joy,  which  pervades  the  soul  of  a 
young  child  on  having  learned  that  it  is 
"  more  blessed  to  give  than  to  receive,"  they 
would  surely  not  deny  them  the  cultivation 
of  so  lasting  a  source  of  real  happiness. 

On  this  subject,  especially,  those  kind  and 
unthinking  mothers  are  apt  to  fall  into  an 
endless  train  of  errors,  simply  from  yielding 
to  a  natural  impulse  to  produce  immediate 
results  of  a  gratifying  nature.  Thus  the 
supply  of  money  to  children  for  the  purpose 
of  making  presents,  for  which  they  obtain  all 
the  thanks,  and  all  the  credit,  is  practised  to 
a  most  injurious  extent.  I  do  not  mean  to 
say  that  children  should  never  be  allowed  to 
give,  until  they  have  money  or  property  of 
their  own ;  but  when  they  do,  it  should  be 
in  the  name  of  their  parents,  and  on  no  ac- 
count should  they  take  merit  to  themselves 
as  if  they  had  done  a  generous  act. 

It  is  a  sacred  duty  with  all  who  have  to  do 
with  the  moral  improvement  of  their  fellow- 
creatures,  to  watch  over  motives,  as  well  as 
actions ;  and  as  regards  the  young,  to  see 
that  they  do  not  grow  up  deceiving  them- 
selves as  to  what  their  motives  really  are. 
Under  no  pretence  is  self-deception  more 
frequently  practised,  than  under  that  of  gen- 
erosity, as  well  as  general  kindness.  There 
may  be  many  selfish  motives  for  doing  gener- 
ous actions,  such  as  reference  to  our  own  ulti- 
mate benefit  in  what  we  do  ;  but  the  mis- 
take- I  would  especially  point  out,  refers  to 
our  immediate  motives,  or  rather  to  the  di- 
rect impulse  upon  which  we  act  The  di- 
rect impulse  to  act  kindly,  may  be  a  desire 
to  relieve  the  suffering  of  others  ;  or  it  may 
be  only  a  desire  to  relieve  our  own  sufferings 
in  the  contemplation  of  distress. 

Perhaps  I  shall  make  my  meaning  better 
understood,  by  the  case  of  a  young  lady,  who 
believed  herself,  and  was  generally  believed, 
to  be  exceedingly  charitable  and  kind  ;  and 
who  sometimes  returned  home  on  a  Satur- 
day afternoon  after  visiting  the  poor,  so  im- 
pressed with  a  painful  sense  of  their  wants 


and  sufferings,  that  for  one  there  was  fruit  to 
be  gathered,  for  another  gruel  made,  while  to 
a  third  or  a  fourth,  honey  and  jelly  had  to  be 
sent  out  that  night  Now  if  we  add,  that 
never,  on  the  Monday  morning,  or  early  in 
the  week,  when  servants  were  more  at  liberty, 
could  the  same  young  lady  remember  to  sup- 
ply the  necessities  of  her  afflicted  friends,  it 
will  be  clearly  understood  that  her  efforts 
were  simply  to  relieve  the  pain  of  her  own 
feelings  in  witnessing  distress,  while  so  soon 
as  this  pain  had  subsided  or  lost  its  acute- 
ness,  the  sufferings  of  the  poor  ceased  to 
supply  a  motive  strong  enough  for  the  exer- 
cise of  her  generosity.  But  let  us  not  think 
too  severely  of  this  case,  without  asking,  in 
how  many  instances  the  conduct  of  the  young 
lady  here  described,  resembles  our  own. 

I  am  aware  that  this  subject  lies  open  to 
the  cavillings  of  those  most  fruitless  reason- 
ers,  who,  after  pursuing  a  round  of  argu- 
ments, congratulate  themselves  at  last  upon 
having  arrived  at  the  senseless  conclusion, 
that  all  kindness  is  selfish,  because  it  origi- 
nates in  an  impulse  to  gratify  ourselves  by 
relieving  distress,  or  doing  good  in  some  oth- 
er way.  Though  such  a  mode  of  arguing  is 
scarcely  worthy  of  a  moment's  serious  no- 
tice, yet  as  it  sometimes  catches  the  atten- 
tion of  those  who  do  not  take  the  trouble  to 
think  for  themselves,  it  may  be  well  to  point 
out  a  distinction  betwixt  those  kind  actions 
which  are  really  selfish,  and  those  which  are 
not.  Those  actions,  then,  may  properly  be 
called  selfish,  which  in  the  mind  of  the  per- 
former have  reference  only  to  self;  and  those 
may  with  great  justice  be  called  unselfish, 
which  have  reference  only  to  others.  Thus 
the  performer  of  kind  or  generous  actions, 
whose  sole  inducement  is  the  luxury  expect- 
ed to  be  derived  therefrom — a  luxury  consist- 
ing either  in  witnessing  enjoyment  of  his  own 
creating,  or  in  receiving  the  praise  or  the  grati- 
tude of  others ;  such  a  man,  though  ostensi- 
bly a  benefactor  to  his  race,  might  with  some 
propriety  be  called  selfish ;  a  title  which  it 
would  be  a  mockery  of  language  to  bestow 
upon  one,  who  should  be  so  intent  upon  the 
relief  of  suffering,  or  upon  the  gratification 


42 


THE  MOTHERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


of  others,  as  never  once  to  have  thought  of 
self,  or  of  any  other  result  than  what  should 
belong  exclusively  to  the  party  served. 
Though  the  real  enjoyment  of  such  a  person 
would  be  as  high,  nay,  far  higher  than  that 
of  the  other,  yet  their  motives  being  essen- 
tially different,  it  would  be  worse  than  folly 
to  place  them  in  the  same  rank  as  moral 
agents  ;  and  whenever  we  would  commend 
or  encourage  the  generosity  of  the  young, 
we  ought  to  examine  well  the  true  state  of 
the  case,  in  order  to  ascertain  which  of  these 
two  motives  has  been  in  operation. 

"If  we  attempt  to  teach  children,"  says 
Miss  Edgeworth,  "  that  they  can  be  generous 
without  giving  up  some  of  their  own  pleas- 
ures for  the  sake  of  other  people,  we  attempt 
to  teach  them  what  is  false.  If  we  once 
make  them  amends  for  any  sacrifice  they 
have  made,  we  lead  them  to  expect  the  same 
remuneration  on  a  future  occasion ;  and  then, 
in  fact,  they  act  with  a  direct  view  to  their 
own  interest,  and  govern  themselves  by  the 
calculations  of  prudence,  instead  of  following 
the  dictates  of  benevolence.  It  is  true,  that 
if  we  speak  with  accuracy,  we  must  admit, 
that  the  most  benevolent  and  generous  per- 
sons act  from  the  hope  of  receiving  pleasure, 
and  their  enjoyment  is  more  exquisite  than 
that  of  the  most  »efined  selfishness :  in  the 
language  of  M.  de  Rochefoucault,  we  should 
be  therefore  forced  to  acknowledge,  that  the 
most  benevolent  is  always  the  most  selfish  per- 
son. This  seeming  paradox  is  answered  by 
observing,  that  the  epithet  selfish  is  given  to 
those  who  prefer  pleasures  in  which  other 
people  have  no  share ;  we  change  the  mean- 
ing of  words  when  we  talk  of  its  being  self- 
ish to  like  the  pleasures  of  sympathy  and 
benevolence,  because  these  pleasures  cannot 
be  confined  solely  to  the  idea  of  self.  When 
we  say  that  a  person  pursues  his  own  inter- 
est more  by  being  generous  than  by  being 
covetous,  we  take  into  account  the  general 
sum  of  his  agreeable  feelings,  we  do  not  bal- 
ance prudentially  his  loss  or  gain  upon  par- 
ticular occasions.  The  generous  man  may 
himself  be  convinced,  that  the  sum  of  his 
happiness  is  more  increased  by  the  feelings 


of  benevolence,  than  it  could  be  by  the  grati- 
fication of  avarice ;  but,  though  his  under- 
standing may  perceive  the  demonstration  of 
this  moral  theorem,  though  it  is  the  remote 
principle  of  his  whole  conduct,  it  does  not 
occur  to  his  memory  in  the  form  of  a  pru- 
dential aphorism,  whenever  he  is  going  to  do 
a  generous  action.  It  is  essential  to  our  ideas 
of  generosity,  that  no  such  reasoning  should 
at  that  moment  pass  in  his  mind  ;  we  know 
that  the  feelings  of  generosity  are  associated 
with  a  number  of  enthusiastic  ideas  ;  we  can 
sympathize  with  the  virtuous  insanity  of  the 
man  who  forgets  himself  while  he  thinks  of 
others  ;  we  do  not  so  readily  sympathize  with 
the  cold  strength  of  mind  of  the  person,  who, 
deliberately  preferring  the  greatest  possible 
share  of  happiness,  is  benevolent  by  rule  and 
measure." 

All  making  of  presents  with  the  parent's 
money,  all  giving  for  the  mere  luxury  of  the 
giver,  should  then  be  studiously  avoided  in 
the  management  of  children ;  while,  on  the 
other  hand,  all  real  kindness,  all  giving  up  of 
selfish  gratification  purely  for  the  sake  of  do- 
ing good  to  others,  ought  to  be  as  studiously 
encouraged,  and  rewarded  with  indubitable 
marks  of  approbation. 

As  one  means  of  preventing  young  people 
acquiring  a  habit  of  acting  from  that  spurious 
kind  of  generosity  which  has  just  been  de- 
scribed, it  is  well  not  to  make  them  too  fre- 
quent spectators  of  the  sufferings  of  the  poor 
and  destitute,  at  an  age  when  they  are  inca- 
pable, by  their  own  efforts,  of  doing  any  thing 
towards  alleviating  the  distress  they  see  ;  for 
while,  with  some  dispositions,  there  is  dan- 
ger that  their  feelings  should  be  rendered 
callous  by  the  frequency  of  such  spectacles  ; 
with  others,  there  is  equal  danger  of  acquir- 
ing a  habit  of  seeking  the  relief  of  the  suffer- 
ing under  a  pretence  of  kindness,  when  the 
chief  or  only  motive  for  such  kindness  is  the 
relief  of  their  own  feelings.  To  accustom 
children  to  remember  the  poor  when  not 
present,  to  lay  by  for  their  relief,  some  por- 
tion of  the  money  given  for  their  own  use, 
or  to  spend  a  little  time  now  and  then  in 
working  for  their  comfort,  is  a  far  more  likely 


GENEROSITY  AND  AFFECTION. 


43 


method  of  inspiring  sentiments  of  true  kind- 
ness, than  merely  to  encourage  them  to  be 
kind  or  generous  at  the  time  when  their 
feelings  are  worked  upon  by  the  presence  of 
distress. 

In  making  free  use  of  the  expressions 
praise,  and  blame,  I  should  be  sorry  to  be 
understood  to  mean  that  the  approbation, 
even  of  a  mother,  should  become  the  leading 
motive,  in  the  conduct  of  a  child,  beyond  that 
early  stage  of  its  existence,  when  it  is  inca- 
pable of  comprehending  any  other.  A  mo- 
ther's approbation,  however,  may  often  be 
made  use  of  as  a  natural  and  appropriate 
reward,  and  this  without  any  of  those  direct 
but  disproportioned  praises  which  induce  an 
idea  of  peculiar  merit  on  the  part  of  a  child. 
Happily  for  the  mother,  nature  has  given  her 
j  the  use  of  a  purer  language  than  that  of 
praise,  in  which  she  may  hold  sweet  com- 
munion with  the  soul  of  her  child.  It  is 
that  of  sympathy,  which  should  never  be 
withheld.  "  It  is  safer,"  says  Miss  Hamilton, 
"  to  sympathize  with  children  than  to  praise 
them  ;"  and  a  mother,  above  all  other  beings, 
has  perpetually  at  her  command,  those  innu- 
merable links  in  the  great  chain  of  sympathy, 
which  consist  of  peculiar  tones  of  voice,  ca- 
resses, looks,  and  familiar  expressions,  down 
to  the  minutest  touch  which  thrills  along  the 
chords  of  feeling,  and  produces  an  answering 
echo,  true  to  nature's  sweetest  music,  from  the 
tender  and  unsophisticated  spirit  of  the  child. 

We  should  be  careful,  too,  in  the  use  of 
maternal  approbation,  lest  children,  who  have 
built  too  much  upon  this  as  their  reward, 
should  grow  up  with  an  inordinate  thirst  fort 
approbation  in  general ;  for  though  we  justly 
grieve  over  the  situation  of  a  being  so  isola- 
ted and  shut  out  from  kindly  sympathies,  as 
not  to  regard  the  praise  or  blame  of  others ; 
yet  it  is  but  too  evident,  from  the  observation 
of  every  day,  that  no  human  beings  are  so 
often  exposed  to  disappointment,  and  none  in 
reality  BO  weak,  as  those  who  derive  their 
highest  satisfaction  from  the  approbation  of 
their  fellow-creatures. 

Still,  in  connection  with  a  mother's  influ- 
ence, and  with  the  natural  means  which  are 


placed  within  her  power  for  exercising  that 
influence  in  the  management  of  her  children, 
it  must  be  allowed  that  praise  and  blame  are 
legitimate  instruments  capable  of  being  used 
with  the  most  beneficial  effect  by  a  judicious 
woman.  For,  after  all,  a  system  of  praise 
and  blame  seems  to  be  that  which  is  most 
adapted  to  our  weakness  ;  in  consideration 
to  which,  we  have  been  taught  by  the  word  of 
God,  to  look  for  consolation  and  support,  less 
as  moral  agents  to  the  intrinsic  excellence  of 
the  Divine  law  as  promulgated  in  the  Scrip- 
tures, than  simply  as  little  children,  to  the 
approbation  of  our  Father  who  is  in  heaven. 

In  confining  our  ideas  of  generosity,  as  is 
too  frequently  the  case,  to  the  mere  act  of 
giving,  we  take  but  a  very  low  and  partial 
view  of  the  subject  as  it  affects  individual 
conduct,  and  as  it  affects  the  interests  of 
society  in  general.  We  are  often  made  to 
feel  a  want  of  generosity  in  the  behavior  of 
our  friends,  where  there  is  no  giving ;  and  in 
nothing  are  we  more  susceptible  of  this,  than 
in  the  treatment  of  our  feelings.  There  are 
many  friends  who  will  give  to  us  abundantly 
— there  may  be  some  who  would  share  with 
us  their  last  shilling ;  but  there  are  not  many 
who  will  pour  the  balm  of  affection  into 
wounds  we  are  justly  suffering  from  disap- 
pointed vanity ;  there  are  not  many  who  will 
screen  us  with  tenderness  from  the  exposure 
of  our  own  folly ;  and  there  are  still  fewer 
who  will  rob  themselves  of  a  little  credit,  for 
the  sake  of  giving  us  our  full  share,  or  more. 
There  are  not  many  either,  who  can  always 
refrain  from  reproaching  penitence,  and  tri- 
umphing over  humiliation,  from  pursuing  a 
victory  with  exultation,  or  from  dragging  to 
light  the  secret  sins  of  a  rival.  Yet  all  this 
belongs  to  the  exercise  of  true  generosity, 
and  is  often  more  touching  to  the  heart  a 
thousand  times,  than  to  be  the  recipient  of 
unnumbered  benefits. 

To  attempt  to  give  any  particular  direction 
for  the  cultivation  of  this  kind  of  generosity, 
would  be  to  presume  a  little  beyond  the 
sphere  of  education  ;  because  it  must  depend 
so  entirely  upon  the  characters  of  those  who 
have  the  training  of  children,  and  upon  the 


44 


THE  MOTHERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


spirit  which  is  cherished  around  the  domestic 
hearth.  One  rule,  however,  may  be  safely 
laid  down,  and  that  is,  never  to  use  taunting 
or  reproachful  expressions  to  children  for 
offences  committed,  after  such  atonement  as 
lies  within  their  power  has  been  made — never 
to  wound  beyond  what  is  absolutely  necessa- 
ry for  correction,  nor  to  allow  the  guilty  to  be 
put  down  and  degraded  more  than  is  essen- 
tial to  their  future  good.  To  this  may  be 
added,  a  strict  embargo  laid  upon  the  ex- 
change of  all  low  thoughts  or  vulgar  senti- 
ments, in  the  nursery ;  such  as  personal 
remarks  upon  other  people's  children,  made 
to  please  the  mother  by  bringing  them  into 
disadvantageous  comparison  with  her  own  ; 
observations  upon  dress,  and  manners,  fur- 
niture, carriages,  and  equipments,  calculated 
to  inspire  in  the  minds  of  children  false  ideas 
of  the  value  of  wealth,  and  consequently  a 
false  estimate  of  individual  character.  All 
these,  though  they  may  on  the  first  view  of 
the  subject  seem  to  have  little  to  do  with 
generosity,  are  parts  of  a  whole — elements 
of  that  domestic  atmosphere  which  childhood 
cannot  breathe  without  more  or  less  expan- 
sion of  soul ;  and  it  is  scarcely  necessary  to 
say,  that  the  low  style  of  thought  and  con- 
versation here  alluded  to,  is  one  of  the  last 
ingredients  we  should  look  for  in  the  forma- 
tion of  a  truly  generous  character. 

In  connection  with  this  subject,  we  must 
not  forget  to  observe,  that  there  is  a  grudging 
way  of  doing  kindnesses,  even  to  children, 
which  must  have  an  injurious  effect  as  re- 
gards generosity  of  feeling.  Some  parents, 
too,  will  not  make  them  any  just  allowance 
!  of  money,  even  when  they  are  of  an  age  to 
understand  its  value,  but  on  every  applica- 
tion for  necessary  expenses,  will  grumble  as 
much  as  if  they  were  actually  robbed ;  while 
others,  or  most  probably  the  same  individuals, 
will,  in  making  presents  to  their  children, 
dwell  so  much  upon  the  cost,  the  trouble,  and 
the  inconvenience  incurred,  as  to  throw  over 
the  receivers  of  such  gifts  an  air  of  meanness, 
for  being  willing  to  accept,  as  a  means  of 
selfish  gratification,  what  has  been  purchased 
so  dearly  by  another. 


Whatever  is  given,  then,  should  be  given 
freely,  in  order  that  it  may  be  freely  received  ; 
for  as  regards  the  moral  training  of  children, 
it  is  better  a  thousand  times  to  let  them  see 
and  feel  the  difference  betwixt  grudging  and 
generosity,  than  to  mix  up  the  two  ideas  in 
their  minds,  by  accustoming  them  to  be  the 
subjects  of  generous  actions,  performed  in  a 
grudging  spirit 

It  is  a  safe  plan,  too,  for  parents  never  to 
make  any  direct  reference  to  desert,  in  con- 
ferring gifts  or  benefits  upon  their  children  ; 
because,  independently  of  real  merit  being  so 
difficult  to  decide  upon,  owing  to  the  im- 
mense variety  of  circumstance  and  disposi- 
tion which  has  to  be  taken  into  account,  it  is 
a  false  foundation  for  any  human  being  to 
build  upon,  beyond  stipulated  remuneration 
for  actual  service  done.  It  is  justice,  if  we 
knew  how  to  exercise  it,  which  bears  imme- 
diately upon  real  merit;  while  generosity 
refers  rather  to  what  we  need,  than  to  what 
we  are.  If  I  might  be  allowed  such  an  illus- 
tration of  the  subject,  I  should  say,  that  by 
justice  we  all,  as  transgressors,  stand  con- 
demned ia  the  sight  of  God ;  while  by  gene- 
rosity we  are  made  partakers  of  the  hope  of 
salvation.  And  shall  we  not  seek  to  exercise 
towards  each  other,  and  to  inculcate  into  the 
minds  whose  training  is  committed  to  our 
care,  a  principle  of  action  so  peculiarly  adapted 
to  our  situation,  both  as  regards  this  life,  and 
the  life  which  is  to  come?  To  be  acquitted 
of  all  blame,  is  much;  but  to  be  forgiven 
where  there  is  blame,  is  infinitely  more,  to 
creatures  frail,  erring,  and  dependent,  such 
as  we  are.  This  is  the  benefit  we  derive 
from  the  exercise  of  generosity ;  and  which 
of  us  in  our  earthly  relations,  even  the  ten- 
derest  and  closest  which  it  is  possible  to  form, 
does  not  feel  that  forgiveness  is  all  we  dare 
to  ask?  while,  in  relation  to  our  Heavenly 
Father,  it  is  infinitely  more  than  we  deserve ! 

True  generosity  of  feeling  is  the  noblest 
characteristic  by  which  any  human  being  can 
be  distinguished.  We  all  acknowledge  this, 
but  do  we  all  cherish  the  feeling  by  every 
means  within  our  power?  If,  as  regards 
ourselves,  we  feel  acquitted  of  all  mean,  self- 


GENEROSITY  AND  AFFECTION. 


45 


ish,  or  sinister  motives  in  what  we  say  or 
do,  let  us  be  the  more  careful,  that  nothing 
in  our  conversation  or  conduct  shall  be  found 
to  damp  the  free  spirit  of  generosity  in  the 
young  characters  around  us.  Let  us  endea- 
vor to  rise  above  those  little  envyings,  and 
jealousies,  which  so  often  beset  with  thorns 
the  path  of  woman ;  and  when  tempted  to 
imbitter  our  kind  services  by  a  grudging  or 
reproachful  manner,  let  us  remember  that 
beautiful  description  of  the  Supreme  Dispen- 
ser of  all  benefits,  where  he  is  spoken  of  as 
"Him,  who  giveth  to  all  men  liberally,  and 
upbraideth  not." 

As  generosity  then  has  no  direct  reference 
to  the  merit  of  the  object  upon  which  it  is 
bestowed,  so  neither  has  the  affection  of  a 
parent,  or  indeed  any  true  affection;  for 
though  it  is  impossible  to  love  what  is  repul- 
sive to  us,  and  consequently  opposed  alike 
to  nature  and  to  reason  that  the  good  should 
attach  themselves  to  the  bad ;  yet  that  our 
affections  are  but  little  proportioned  to  the 
merit  of  the  objects  upon  whom  they  are 
fixed,  the  evidence  of  every  day  sufficiently 
proves.  And  happy  indeed  is  it  for  some  of 
UB,  that  we  can  be  loved  even  as  we  are. 
Happy  is  it,  especially,  for  the  plain,  the  dull, 
the  froward  child,  that,  as  one  of  the  most 
unfortunate  of  mothers  has  beautifully  said — 
"  the  loved  are  lovely."  Happy  is  it,  indeed, 
that  a  provision  has  been  made  in  the  pa- 
rent's affection,  against  all  personal  defects ; 
so  that  the  very  fact  of  being  less  attractive 
to  others,  sometimes  seems  to  endear  the 
little  uncomplaining  subject  of  neglect,  so 
aa  to  bring  it  home  with  a  welcome  of  ten- 
fold tenderness,  whenever  it  seeks  the  shelter 
of  the  maternal  bosom. 

There  is  not,  in  fact,  among  the  deep  mys- 
teries of  our  being,  one  circumstance  more 
illustrative  of  Divine  goodness  than  this — 
that  the  mother,  whose  quick  eye  is  ever 
open  to  perceive  the  beauty  of  her  child, 
whose  vanity  is  ever  ready  to  hail  the  ap- 
plause it  may  meet  with  from  others,  and 
whose  ambition  is  ever  building  the  most 
exalted  schemes  upon  its  future  course, 
should  see  that  beauty  wanting,  and  yet  feel 


no  repulse ;  should  watch  for  that  applause, 
but  find  it  not;  and  instead  of  the  proud 
hopes  so  fondly  cherished,  should  behold  a 
low,  obscure,  and  humble  path  marked  out 
for  the  beloved  one — that  the  mother  should 
be  able  to  bear  all  this,  and  yet  experience  an 
increase  rather  than  a  diminution  of  her  ten- 
derness, might  indeed  supply  us  with  con- 
vincing proof,  had  such  been  needed,  that 
the  humblest  and  most  insignificant  being  in 
the  universe  is  provided  for  by  a  merciful 
and  gracious  Father,  as  kindly  as  the  most 
exalted. 

The  mother  must  not  forget,  however,  that 
even  in  the  outpouring  of  her  own  affection, 
there  may  be  something  which  operates 
against  that  of  her  children's  affection  in  re- 
turn. There  may  be  a  want  of  sympathy,  a 
want  of  generosity,  or  a  want  of  adaptation 
to  their  peculiarities  of  character,  which  sets 
them  in  some  measure  apart  from  intimacy 
with  her,  and  consequently  makes  her  to 
some  extent  a  stranger  to  their  feelings.  To 
be  separated  in  this  manner  from  a  father,  is 
an  evil  great  enough  ;  but  for  children  not  to 
make  a  bosom  friend  of  their  mother,  is  a 
calamity  of  such  magnitude  as  to  demand 
the  most  careful  examination  as  regards  its 
cause. 

Perhaps  the  warm  gush  of  the  child's  af- 
fection has  not  been  met  by  equal  warmth  in 
return.  Perhaps  the  germs  of  feeling,  as  they 
unfolded  themselves  in  infant  beauty,  have 
been  withered  by  sarcasm,  or  blighted  by  con- 
tempt Perhaps  the  mother  has  never  thought 
how  important  it  is,  that  children  should  be 
encouraged  to  speak  freely  what  they  think 
and  feel,  in  order  that  their  erroneous  notions 
may  be  corrected.  Or,  perhaps,  the  peal  of 
laughter  allowed  to  echo  round  the  social 
board  whenever  a  mistake  has  been  commit- 
ted, has  closed  the  expanding  heart,  and  left 
it  in  a  manner  companionless  and  unknown. 
Now,  it  is  the  mother  who  ought  to  stand  by 
her  children  in  all  these  little  instances  of  in- 
dividual exposure ;  and  it  is  the  office  of  af- 
fection not  only  to  make  reparation  where 
injury  has  been  done,  but  so  to  shield  from 
danger  and  from  pain,  as  to  inspire  a  feeling 


48 


THE  MOTHERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


of  trust  and  safety  under  the  protection  of 
maternal  love.  t 

And  the  father  too — how  beautiful  it  is 
sometimes  to  see  his  stronger  powers  of  pro- 
tection brought  into  action,  to  defend  the  lit- 
tle helpless  one  from  heedlessly  inflicted  pain  ! 
How  beautiful  it  is  to  sec  and  happy  is  it 
for  families  where  this  can  be  done  with  safe- 
ty— the  reference  of  the  mother  to  his  autho- 
rity, as  the  highest  and  the  best,  on  all  dis- 
puted points  ;  with  the  treasuring  up  for  him 
those  select  and  appropriate  enjoyments 
which  are  most  adapted  to  the  situation  of  a 
weary  man  coming  home  to  his  well-earned 
reward — the  enjoyment  of  his  own  fireside  ! 
How  pleasant  then  to  tell  over  the  little  in- 
cidents of  the  day — little  to  all  the  world,  but 
great  to  them — how  happy  to  watch  the  ex- 
pression of  the  father's  face,  as  he  listens 
sometimes  with  grave  attention,  or  approves 
with  cordial  smiles;  while  he  strokes  the 
head  of  one,  as  another  climbs  his  knee,  and 
thus  dispenses  the  familiar  tokens  of  his  af- 
fection, so  that  none  can  feel  either  slighted 
or  forgotten ! 

But  these  are  among  the  sunny  spots  of 
life,  which  it  is  not  permitted  that  either 
tongue  or  pen  should  describe.  As  the  glow 
of  the  winter's  hearth,  all  bright  and  cheer- 
ing as  it  is,  has  an  influence  more  felt  than 
seen ;  so  there  is  a  life-giving  warmth  to 
those  who  form  the  charmed  circle,  in  these 
simple  but  yet  touching  scenes,  of  which  no- 
thing in  after  life  can  destroy  the  vitality,  and 
still  less  efface  the  remembrance.  It  is  from 
such  fountains  as  these,  gushing  forth  in  the 
secret  of  domestic  life,  that  those  streams  of 
affection  are  supplied,  from  which  we  have 
to  draw,  in  our  intercourse  with  society,  and 
with  the  world.  There  will  be  much  in  this 
intercourse  calculated  to  divert  the  streams 
from  their  true  course,  to  diminish  or  retard 
their  healthy  flow ;  but  let  us  ask  the  Divine 
blessing  upon  our  efforts  to  keep  the  fountain 
fresh  and  pure,  for  without  that  they  can 
neither  give  beauty  nor  fertility  to  the  path 
of  life. 

I  have  sometimes  thought  that  those  simple 
sunny  spots  of  human  life  I  have  here  allud- 


ed to,  were  like  the  green  knolls  in  a  lovely 
landscape,  left  out  by  the  painter  as  insignifi- 
cant in  comparison  with  the  rocky  heights, 
the  falling  torrents,  and  the  precipitous  ra- 
vines ;  yet  chosen  by  the  husbandman,  and 
cultivated  with  peculiar  care,  because  they 
alone  are  capable  of  yielding  the  harvest  upon 
which  his  happiness  depends.  It  is  thus 
with  what  is  great  and  wonderful  in  the  pic- 
ture of  human  life,  upon  which  we  sometimes 
gaze  with  an  ill-directed  ambition  to  tread  its 
dizzy  heights,  or  penetrate  its  mysterious 
depths,  forgetful  of  the  danger  and  the  weari- 
ness inevitably  attending  such  an  adventurous 
career.  Nor  is  it  sometimes  until  experience 
has  taught  us,  that  the  heights  above  are  cold 
and  barren,  and  the  depths  beset  with  perils 
profitless  and  dreary,  that  we  come  back 
perhaps  too  late,  when  the  autumn  tints  are 
upon  the  landscape,  to  seek  again  for  the 
green  knolls,  and  to  wish  we  had  been  con- 
tented with  the  freshness,  the  verdure,  and 
fertility,  which  might  still  have  smiled  around 
us  there. 

It  is  an  ungrateful  part  of  the  duty  of  those 
who  write  upon  the  moral  tendency  of  hu- 
man actions,  and  who  consequently  presume 
to  examine  motives,  to  cry  beware !  when 
others  see  no  danger,  and  thus  to  bring  upon 
themselves  the  odium  of  being  cynical  and 
gloomy  in  their  general  views  of  human  life ; 
when  in  reality  their  love  of  what  is  estima- 
ble in  human  character  is  too  intense  to  per- 
mit them  to  rest  satisfied  under  the  appre- 
hension of  its  being  obscured  by  some  advan- 
cing cloud.  More  especially  is  this  the  case, 
when  childhood  with  its  fresh  uncalculating 
energies  becomes  the  subject  of  consideration 
— when  we  sit  down  to  make  cool  comments 
upon  its  outbursts  of  ungoverned  feeling,  and 
its  thrilling  voice  of  joy  which  echoes  upon 
the  weary  ear  like  the  summer  song  of  birds, 
startling  the  tired  spirit  into  hope  that  some 
new  spring  of  gladness  has  been  found,  when 
it  is  but  nature  at  her  joyous  revelry,  making 
pastime  of  common  and  familiar  things,  and 
exulting  in  the  fulness  of  her  own  delight 

With  this  ringing  shout  of  joy,  the  father 
of  a  family  is  sometimes  welcomed  home, 


GENEROSITY  AND  AFFECTION. 


47 


when,  "  Let  me  be  first,"  is  the  undisguised 
and  general  wish  ; — "  Let  me  be  first  to  meet 
him  at  the  door,"  "  Let  me  be  first  to  claim 
his  promised  kiss."  The  father  and  the  mo- 
ther too  partake  in  their  full  measure  of  the 
general  exultation,  and  the  strife  of  little  arms 
to  meet  a  parent's  fond  embrace,  sends 
warmth  and  gladness  to  his  heart  But — and 
here  lies  the  ungraciousness  of  those  who 
cry  beware  !  at  such  a  time — there  is  some- 
times hidden  a  dark  secret  in  that  very  lan- 
guage, "  Let  me  be  first"  Yes,  looking  on 
the  shaded  side  of  this  sweet  picture,  we  be- 
hold, not  always,  certainly,  but  far  too  often, 
strife,  envy,  and  passion,  among  the  little  anx- 
ious group,  because  they  cannot  all  be  first ; 
and  we  find  then  that  to  be  distinguished 
from  the  many,  to  enjoy  what  could  not  be 
enjoyed  by  others,  and  to  obtain  the  credit  of 
being  the  most  eager  and  affectionate,  has 
had  more  than  due  share  in  the  motives  of 
some,  if  not  of  all. 

The  parents,  however,  are  too  tender,  too 
grateful,  and  too  full  of  joy,  to  note  this  down 
at  such  a  moment ;  and  they  forget,  or  per- 
suade themselves  that  such  a  blot  upon  their 
pleasant  picture  has  never  found  a  place ; 
until  the  evil  grows,  and  grows,  and  then 
they  find,  to  their  surprise,  that  the  brothers 
and  the  sisters  of  their  family  are  not  united 
in  their  interests,  nor  so  zealous  for  each 
other's,  as  for  their  own  individual  good. 

The  fact  is,  that  while  affection  arises  im- 
perceptibly, and  as  a  natural  consequence  of 
their  care  and  kindness,  in  the  hearts  of  chil- 
dren towards  their  parents,  it  does  not,  un- 
less Cultivated  by  the  parents,  arise  in  the 
same  manner,  or  with  equal  certainty,  in  the 
heart  of  one  child  towards  another.  It  is 
true  they  are  talked  into  a  kind  of  nursery 
affection  for  what  is  called  "  the  baby,"  while 
it  is  such ;  and  they  may  also  be  taught  to 
say  "  dear,"  and  speak  sweetly  to  each  other 
— sometimes ;  but  the  greedy  grasp,  the  scowl- 
ing brow,  the  sly  pretence  to  obtain  advan- 
tage, and  the  pleasure  secretly  enjoyed,  too 
plainly  indicate,  in  some  families,  that  the 
fruits  of  true  affection  need  not  be  looked  for 
there. 


Now,  in  proportion  as  mothers  sincerely 
desire  the  future  welfare  of  their  children,  as 
they  believe  th'at  in  union  there  is  strength, 
and  in  family  concord  real  happiness,  surely 
they  will  endeavor  to  turn  the  springs  of 
early  affection  into  such  a  channel,  as  that 
the  fair  garden  over  which  they  watch  with 
such  untiring  solicitude,  may  still  be  watered, 
even  if  the  mother's  care  should  be  with- 
drawn. 

Beyond  a  certain  period,  it  is  scarcely  to 
be  expected  that  the  bond  between  a  parent 
and  a  child  should  be  kept  unbroken.  In 
the  common  course  of  human  affairs  fami- 
lies are  separated,  and  parents  removed  by 
death ;  but  so  long  as  brothers  and  sisters 
live,  they  might,  if  bound  by  true  affection, 
remain  to  be  a  blessing  and  a  help  to  each 
other  ;  and  should  their  parents  be  spared  to 
them  beyond  the  usual  period  of  family  union, 
what  richer  harvest  could  they  reap,  what 
more  entire  fulfilment  of  their  hopes,  what 
reward  more  precious  for  "  all  their  sorrows, 
all  their  cares,"  than  to  see  their  children 
happy  in  them,  and  in  each  other  1  so  living 
in  harmony  and  love  on  earth,  as  to  sustain 
the  hope  of  their  again  becoming  a  united 
family  in  heaven! 

All  this,  however,  and  it  is  not  too  much 
for  maternal  love  with  the  Divine  blessing  to 
accomplish,  is  chiefly  to  be  learned  in  early 
life,  and  at  home,  where  that  great  lesson 
should  be  studiously  taught,  that  individual 
gratification  ought  never  to  be  sought  in  op- 
position to  general  good.  This  is  the  grand 
secret  of  social  happiness;  and  we  should 
begin  well,  by  making  it  an  habitual  lesson  at 
home,  in  order  that  it  may  be  carried  out  into 
all  the  relations  formed  in  after  life. 

It  is  a  part  of  the  mother's  duty,  then,  and 
one  to  which  especial  attention  should  be 
paid,  to  see  that  a  spirit  of  exclusiveness 
does  not  find  place  among  her  children ;  and 
this  can  only  be  done  effectually  by  inspiring 
them  with  comprehensive,  generous,  and 
affectionate  feelings  towards  each  other,  so 
that  no  single  member  of  the  family  shall 
esteem  any  happiness  as  complete,  in  which 
the  others  do  not  partake. 


48 


THE  MOTHERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


Human  nature  is  deeply  charged  with  self- 
ishness. There  is  no  complaint  more  fre- 
quently made  than  that  of  selfishness  being 
the  ruling  motive  with  mankind  in  general. 
But  granting  this  to  be  true,  I  believe  much 
of  the  evil  is  chargeable  upon  the  careless- 
ness of  mothers  in  the  early  training  of  their 
children ;  for  sure  I  am,  that  no  one  ever  yet 
was  made  to  experience  the  value  of  disin- 
terested kindness,  who  did  not  find  in  its  ex- 
ercise, a  higher,  purer  happiness,  than  in  the 
mere  gratification  of  selfish  inclination.  If, 
then,  a  family  of  children  are  so  trained  by 
their  mother,  as  to  seek  their  truest  enjoy- 
ment in  making  each  other  happy,  they  will 
not  be  likely,  after  having  tasted  this  purer 
satisfaction,  ever  to  descend  again  to  those 
lower  aims  which  centre  all  in  self  as  the 
supreme  object  of  regard. 

One  great  means  of  promoting  this  union 
of  interest  in  a  family,  is  for  the  mother  fre- 
quently to  point  out  to  her  children  the  man- 
ner in  which  they  may  oppose,  or  carry  for- 
ward, little  plans  for  the  general  good.  The 
fireside  circle  should  not  be  considered  well 
arranged,  when  only  one  or  two  are  made 
comfortable  ;  but  when  all  are  brought  within 
the  influence  of  light,  and  warmth,  and  social 
feeling.  The  winter's  evening  story  should 
not  be  told  until  all  the  listeners  are  gathered 
in.  The  walk  to  the  pleasant  wood  should 
not  be  taken,  when  it  is  not  possible  for  all  to 
go.  And  when  such  objections  are  habit- 
ually brought  forward  by  the  mother,  and  the 
absent  ones  are  remembered  as  being  worthy 
of  having  a  treat  put  off  on  their  account ; 
when  children,  too,  are  often  reminded  how 
incomplete  their  pleasures  must  be  if  enjoyed 
alone,  they  naturally  imbibe  the  social  feeling 
of  their  mother,  and  in  time  assimilate  so 
much  to  the  tone  of  her  mind,  that  they  would 
be  both  ashamed  and  grieved  to  be  found 
wanting  in  affection  towards  a  sister  or  a 
brother. 

When  illness  falls  upon  one  member  of  a 
family,  we  often  see  the  fond  mother  devoting 
herself  to  the  duties  of  the  sick-room  with 
unremitting  assiduity,  while  her  healthy  care- 
less children  run  off  to  their  accustomed  play, 


more  pleased  than  sorry  to  have  a  greater 
share  of  liberty  than  usual,  let  the  cause  be 
what  it  may.  I  would  not  be  supposed  to 
mean,  in  what  I  am  about  to  say,  that  such 
children  could  with  any  propriety  be  con- 
verted into  nurses ;  more  especially  as  it 
often  happens  that  the  atmosphere  of  a  sick- 
room is  such  as  they  cannot  breathe  with 
safety.  But  still  there  are  many  cases  in 
which  the  invalid  is  in  a  state  to  receive  oc- 
casionally the  kind  attentions  of  the  younger 
members  of  the  family ;  and  where  this  is 
the  case,  much  may  be  done  to  alleviate  the 
trials  of  indisposition,  by  making  it  a  favor 
and  a  privilege  to  wait  upon  the  sick  or  help- 
less one. 

Among  the  many  pitiful  spectacles  we  are 
accustomed  to  behold,  I  have  often  thought 
that  of  a  lame  boy,  watching  his  happier 
schoolfellows  start  off  in  the  merry  race  from 
the  little  mound  of  earth  where  he  has  prop- 
ped his  crutches,  is  one  of  the  most  affecting 
which  the  aspect  of  ordinary  life  presents; 
and  the  situation  of  the  sick  child  is  often  too 
much  like  that  of  the  lame  boy  ;  for  though 
the  mother  stays  beside  it,  all  the  rest  are 
gone;  they  are  gone  with  their  thoughtless 
laughter,  bounding  over  the  green  lawn ;  and 
well  the  little  sufferer  knows  how  they  are 
enjoying  life,  and  enjoying  it  not  the  less  be- 
cause it  is  not  with  them. 

It  is  a  common  thing  with  nurses,  and 
with  mothers  too,  to  endeavor  to  console  the 
invalid  by  telling  of  the  many  choice  and 
excellent  things  prepared  to  gratify  its  appe- 
tite, of  which  the  others  are  not  permitted  to 
partake ;  of  the  ripe  fruit  which  has  been 
sent  as  a  present  for  it,  and  it  alone ;  or  of 
the  treat  which  is  in  store  for  the  first  day 
of  convalescence,  by  which  it  will  be  distin- 
guished as  an  object  of  envy  to  the  rest  All 
this  is  practised  again  and  again  in  the  nur- 
sery and  the  sick-room  ;  and  then,  as  the 
child  grows  better,  it  is  found  fault  with  for 
being  selfish  and  greedy,  as  if  selfishness  was 
not  a  natural  and  necessary  consequence  of 
such  a  mode  of  treatment 

How  much  better  would  it  be,  to  make  the 
season  of  sickness  a  time  for  drawing  the 


INDIVIDUAL  AND  SOCIAL  HAPPINESS. 


49 


bonds  of  family  affection  closer,  for  directing 
every  thought  and  every  expression  of  kind- 
ness with  twofold  tenderness  to  the  allevia- 
tion of  suffering — and  if  not  of  bodily  suffer- 
ing, to  that  of  the  mind,  so  as  to  convince  the 
invalid  that  illness  is  scarcely  an  affliction 
when  it  is  the  means  of  calling  forth  so  vast 
an  amount  of  sympathy  and  love.  Nor  in- 
deed is  bodily  illness  an  affliction  at  all  to  be 
compared  to  those  visitations  of  a  darkened 
spirit,  which  convey  the  impression  that  we 
are  not  cared  for  by  those  we  love,  that  we 
are  not  essential  to  their  happiness,  and  that 
life  to  them  would  be  as  full  of  interest  and 
enjoyment,  if  we  were  sleeping  in  the  grave. 
With  the  watchful  eye  of  a  mother  ever  near, 
the  kind  voices  of  gentle  sisters  speaking 
softly  by  the  bed  of  pain,  the  sweet  flowers 
gathered  by  a  brother's  hand  and  brought  up 
fresh  with  dew,  the  fond  inquiries  of  an  anx- 
ious father  arriving  earlier  than  his  wont — 
with  all  those  sweet  appliances  and  means 
which  are  prompted  by  affection  in  a  united 
and  considerate  family,  illness,  instead  of 
being  a  season  of  desolateness  and  distress 
to  a  young  sufferer,  may  often  be  converted 
into  one  of  real  enjoyment,  just  in  proportion 
as  it  is  made  the  means  of  renewing  confi- 
dence, by  calling  forth  convincing  proofs  of 
untiring  tenderness  and  love.  Instead,  then, 
of  feeling  withered  up  into  a  concentration  of 
self,  the  heart,  under  such  circumstances, 
expands  and  warms  into  new  life  ;  and  while 
gratitude  weeps  many  a  tear  of  weakness 
and  humility,  imagination,  busy  with  the  fu- 
ture, paints  in  glowing  colors  the  rich  return 
it  may,  perhaps,  be  possible  to  make  for  all 
the  goodness  and  the  benefit  received. 

We  see  clearly,  then,  that  whether  in  health 
or  in  sickness,  in  joy  or  in  sorrow,  it  is  the 
mother's  sacred  duty  to  guard  against  any 
weakening  of  the  bonds  of  family  affection — 
to  see  that  the  fountain  of  love  is  kept  fresh, 
and  pure,  and  perpetually  flowing.  All  those 
calculations  which  are  to  master  its  strong 
currents,  have  to  come  in  after  life  ;  all  those 
clear  boundary  lines,  by  which  its  floods  are 
staid,  have  to  be  marked  out  on  some  future 
day.  The  first  thing  to  be  done  is  to  keep 


the  fountain  unsealed,  and  to  let  the  life-in- 
spiring waters  flow ;  for  without  this,  the  pil- 
grimage of  life  will  have  neither  flowers  to 
enliven,  verdure  to  refresh,  nor  fruits  to  sus- 
tain the  traveller  on  his  way. 


CHAPTER  VL 

INDIVTDUAI.   AND   SOCIAL   HAPPINESS. 

To  a  healthy  child  who  has  been  well 
trained,  nothing  appeals  more  easy  than  to 
be  happy  ;  to  a  child  who  has  been  badly 
trained,  whose  infant  years  have  been  ne- 
glected or  motherless,  nothing  appears  more 
difficult.  There  is  often  something  in  the 
bodily  constitution,  too,  which  stands  in  the 
way  of  individual  happiness,  without  our  be- 
ing sensible  of  any  actual  disease ;  and  the 
mother  ought  to  watch  carefully  every  symp- 
tom of  this  nature  as  indications  of  growing 
evil,  which  may  frustrate  much  of  the  good 
she  naturally  looks  forward  to  in  the  future 
experience  of  her  child.  She  ought  especially 
to  observe,  if,  when  the  family  group  are 
loudest  in  their  mirth,  there  is  one  who  falls 
back  from  the  cheerful  circle,  and  who,  in- 
stead of  caiching  the  natural  infection  of 
laughter  and  glee,  sits  moping  alone,  with 
cloudy  brow,  and  drooping  head,  as  if  inca- 
pable of  partaking  in  the  general  feeling. 
Such  a  tendency  as  this,  is  generally  to  be  at- 
tributed to  some  bodily  indisposition,  of  which 
perhaps  the  child  is  not  aware  ;  but  it  may 
also  arise  from  a  peculiarity  of  temperament, 
only  to  be  accounted  for  upon  the  principle 
that  there  are  diseases  of  mind,  as  well  as 
body,  the  seeds  of  which  are  inherent  in  our 
nature. 

If,  in  order  to  correct  a  melancholy  tendency 
discoverable  in  infancy,  the  child  is  harshly 
treated,  punished,  scolded,  and  compelled  to 
play,  it  is  needless  to  foretell  the  utter  ruin  of 
its  temper,  and  probably  of  its  moral  charac- 
ter altogether ;  for  never  yet  was  melancholy 
expelled  except  by  the  substitution  of  cheer- 


50 


THE  MOTHERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


fulness ;  and  never  yet  was  a  child  made 
cheerful  by  harshness  and  compulsion. 

While  thinking  how  much  a  kind  and  ju- 
dicious mother  can  do  towards  correcting  the 
melancholy  temperament  of  her  child,  the 
heart  aches  for  those  who  have  no  mother, 
who,  in  their  moments  of  sadness  and  sor- 
row, are  subjected  to  the  ridicule  of  their 
companions,  and  who  consequently  bear 
about  with  them,  in  their  intercourse  with 
others,  a  wounded  spirit  smarting  at  every 
touch.  The  premature  and  excessive  suffer- 
ing of  such  children  when  left  to  the  injudi- 
cious treatment  of  their  companions,  or  to 
persons  who  pay  little  regard  to  what  they 
experience,  generally  renders  them  selfish  in 
their  feelings,  and  in  their  tempers  bitter  and 
revengeful.  They  are  selfish,  upon  the  natu- 
ral principle  of  caring  for  nobody,  because  they 
think  nobody  cares  for  them ;  and  bitter  and 
revengeful,  because,  being  wrapped  up  in 
self,  and  that  self,  as  they  imagine,  deeply 
injured,  they  are  perpetually  tempted  to  pay 
back,  in  their  treatment  of  others,  some  por- 
tion of  the  suffering  they  endure. 

It  must  be  granted,  however,  that  this  de- 
scription applies  only  to  extreme  cases  ;  but 
still  there  are  many  degrees  of  the  same  evil, 
to  be  found  existing  in  the  world ;  and  it  is 
well  for  mothers  to  consider  the  extent  to 
which  their  children  are  capable  of  suffering 
from  want  of  attention  rightly  exercised,  in 
order  that  they  may  form  a  higher  estimate 
of  the  real  benefits  placed  within  their  power 
to  dispense. 

It  was  the  custom  with  many  well-inten- 
tioned parents,  some  fifty  years  ago,  to  bring 
up  children  under  a  mistaken  notion  of  root- 
ing out  evil,  before  good  could  be  introduced  ; 
of  breaking  the  natural  will,  crossing  natural 
inclination,  and  subduing  pride  by  constant 
mortification.  Yet,  notwithstanding  the  va- 
rious modes  of  discipline  adopted  in  carrying 
out  this  notion,  people  were  just  a*  self-will- 
ed, as  determined  to  please  themselves,  and 
as  proud,  as  they  are  now.  It  has  by  de- 
grees become  evident  to  persons  of  common 
sense,  that  such  violent  measures  are  not 
adapted  to  produce  the  desired  effect  In- 


deed, some  of  us  have  gone  so  far  as  to  be- 
lieve, that  pride  is  no  more  likely  to  be  eradi- 
cated by  constant  mortification,  than  appetite 
is  likely  to  be  destroyed  by  a  scanty  supply 
of  food.  Inclination,  too,  whenever  it  is 
crossed  for  the  mere  sake  of  punishment, 
seems  to  grow  and  acquire  force  under  the 
infliction ;  just  as  a  delicate  frame  gains 
strength  by  the  application  of  a  tonic  ;  or,  if 
in  a  few  instances  harsh  treatment  does  suc- 
ceed in  breaking  what  is  called  the  natural 
will,  it  can  only  be  by  destroying  the  power 
to  will,  which  is  in  reality  to  .render  the  moral 
character  contemptible  and  weak. 

But  why  should  the  mother,  in  her  moral 
training,  allow  weeds  of  evil  growth  to  gain 
the  ascendancy,  before  she  has  planted  flow- 
ers? Let  her  begin  by  keeping  alive  the 
wholesome  glow  of  cheerfulness  throughout 
the  domestic  atmosphere,  and  melancholy 
will  not  dare  to  spread  her  gloomy  pall  over 
a  scene  so  radiant  with  joy,  as  that  which  is 
presented  by  a  happy  and  well  regulated 
home. 

After  all,  however,  it  is  possible  that  we  do 
not  value  cheerfulness  as  we  ought  We 
look  upon  it  as  an  ordinary  something  which 
belongs  to  common  minds — the  property  of 
the  milkmaid,  the  housewife,  or  the  hus- 
bandman. Yet,  granting  all  this,  we  must 
still  acknowledge  it  to  be  something  which 
kings  cannot  purchase,  though  in  all  proba- 
bility they  often  gladly  would.  And  does 
not  the  fact  of  cheerfulness  being  generally 
considered  as  the  reward  of  labor,  teach  us  a 
pleasant  and  a  useful  lesson — that  cheerful- 
ness may  be  procured  by  industry — by  al- 
ways doing  something,  and  by  always  having 
something  to  do  7 

It  is  in  this  manner  chiefly,  that  the  cheer- 
fulness of  infancy  is  maintained.  Childhood 
is  full  of  activity,  and  rich  in  resources ;  and 
therefore  we  make  a  great  mistake  when  we 
lavish  too  much  of  the  means  of  enjoyment 
upon  young  children.  It  is  a  little  later  in 
life  that  we  begin  to  want  the  means  of  being 
happy  ;  that  the  pulse  of  natural  joy  throbs 
languidly ;  and  that  we  seek  excitement,  to 
warm  us  into  life  and  feeling. 


INDIVIDUAL  AND  SOCIAL  HAPPINESS. 


51 


Nor  is  it  in  childhood  alone  that  we  see 
the  benefit  of  cheerfulness,  for  with  plenty 
of  resources,  and  a  cheerful  disposition,  per- 
sons more  advanced  in  life  are  placed  almost 
beyond  the  reach  of  disappointment.  It  is 
the  dull,  the  flat,  and  the  unoccupied,  who 
hang  their  happiness  upon  an  evening  party, 
and  who  are  always  dependent  upon  some 
extraordinary  excitement  for  breaking  the 
monotony  of  their  fruitless  lives.  "  No  one," 
says  Miss  Hamilton,  "under  the  necessity  of 
earning  their  daily  subsistence,  is  in  any  dan- 
ger of  dying  either  of  grief  or  love."  And 
certainly  that  constant  occupation  which  pro- 
motes cheerfulness,  is  the  surest  protection 
against  diseases  of  the  mind,  and  especially 
against  melancholy. 

While  seeking  the  happiness  of  children, 
however,  we  must  not  be  so  forgetful  of  their 
good,  as  to  pay  no  regard  to  the  kind  of  hap- 
piness which  is  to  be  the  object  of  their  de- 
sires. We  must  not  forget  that  we  are  all  in 
a  state  of  progression,  and  that  children  es- 
pecially are  only  commencing  what  time  will 
mature.  Why  then  should  we  seek  for  them 
a  low  kind  of  happiness,  such  as  the  indul- 
gence of  appetite,  or  the  mere  gratification 
of  the  senses  in  any  other  way ;  since  no 
circumstances  in  after  life,  no  development 
of  character,  and  no  cultivation  of  those  sen- 
ses, can  render  such  happiness  intense  in  pro- 
portion to  our  improved  facilities  for  obtain- 
ing it  Thus  a  child  who  has  imbibed  the 
idea  that  eating  and  drinking  constitute  the 
highest  enjoyment,  stands  in  the  unfortunate 
position  of  having  nothing  more  to  gain ;  be- 
cause no  cultivation  of  the  sense  of  taste  can 
enlarge  to  any  considerable  extent  the  pleas- 
ure it  is  calculated  to  afford. 

It  is  not  thus  with  the  pleasures  of  the 
mind.  Ever  progressing,  ever  enlarging  the 
sphere  of  its  enjoyments,  human  nature  is 
capable  of  advancing  onward,  until  it  at- 
tains an  approximation  to  the  Divine ;  and 
the  higher  the  range  of  thought  and  feeling 
which  it  occupies,  the  purer  is  the  enjoyment 
ofc  which  it  participates. 

In  this  intellectual  progress,  mothers  have 
more  to  do  than  most  women  seem  to  be 


aware ;  because  it  is  peculiarly  their  province 
to  render  the  path  of  learning  lovely  and  at- 
tractive, and  thus  to  associate  feelings  of 
happiness  with  the  acquisition  of  ideas,  the 
prosecution  of  study,  and  the  general  im- 
provement of  the  mental  faculties.  Mothers 
are  apt  to  be  startled  at  the  idea  of  educating 
their  children,  as  if  education  consisted  in 
nothing  but  the  routine  of  daily  lessons,  or  as 
if  the  extreme  of  intellectual  culture  was 
dependent  upon  them.  Happily,  however, 
theirs  is  a  labor  of  love,  rather  than  x>f  tasks, 
and  it  is  simply  by,  and  in,  this  love,  that 
they  are  called  upon  to  throw  the  whole 
weight  of  their  influence,  of  their  powers  to 
charm,  to  amuse,  and  fix  attention,  into  the 
scale  of  intellectual  improvement ;  so  that  no- 
thing shall  be  wanting  on  their  part  to  ren- 
der their  children  not  only  willing,  but  happy, 
to  go  on  from  step  to  step,  until  they  learn  to 
love  intellectual  pleasures  for  their  own  sake 
alone. 

That  a  mother  may  effectually  do  this  by 
the  exercise  of  good  feeling  and  tact,  without 
being  herself  fully  instructed  in  every  branch 
of  learning  and  science,  is  evident  from  the 
experience  of  different  families ;  for  we  do 
not  want  beautiful  instances  of  simple-heart- 
ed, unpretending  mothers,  not  highly-gifted 
by  nature  in  any  way,  who  send  their  chil- 
dren to  school  in  such  a  state  of  mental  pre- 
paration, as  to  render  it  a  pleasure  to  conduct 
their  education  to  its  utmost  limits. 

"  Many  ladies,"  says  Miss  Edgeworth, 
"  show  in  general  conversation  the  powers 
of  easy  raillery  joined  to  reasoning  unen- 
cumbered with  pedantry.  If  they  would 
employ  their  talents  in  the  education  of 
their  children,  they  would  probably  be  as 
well  repaid  for  their  exertions,  as  they  can 
possibly  be  by  the  polite  but  transient  ap- 
plause of  the  visitors  to  whom  they  usually 
devote  their  powers  of  entertaining.  A  lit- 
tle praise  or  blame — a  smile  from  a  mother, 
or  a  frown — a  moment's  attention,  or  a  look 
of  cold  neglect — have  the  happy  or  the  fatal 
power  of  repressing  or  of  exciting  the  energy 
of  a  child,  of  directing  his  understanding  to 
useful  or  pernicious  purposes.  Scarcely  a 


52 


THE  MOTHERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


day  passes  in  which  children  do  not  make 
some  attempt  to  reason  about  the  little  events 
which  interest  them,  and  upon  these  occa- 
sions a  mother  who  joins  in  conversation 
with  her  children,  may  instruct  them  in  the 
art  of  reasoning  without  the  parade  of  logi- 
cal disquisitions." 

It  is  not  then  extraordinary  powers  which 
are  wanted  for  this  purpose,  but  the  right  ex- 
ercise of  those  peculiar  talents  with  which 
women  are  naturally  endowed,  combined  with 
that  earnest  love  on  the  part  of  the  mother, 
which  enables  her  to  pursue  unwearied  the 
instruction  of  her  children  in  all  common 
things,  and  to  watch  every  opportunity  for 
blending  information  with  enjoyment 

I  would  not,  however,  by  any  means  neg- 
lect those  auspicious  occasions  which  occur 
in  every  family,  of  throwing  off  all  restraint, 
and  giving  free  vent  to  the  overflow  of  affec- 
tionate and  unbounded  joy.  The  return  of 
some  member  of  the  household,  the  arrival  of 
beloved  friends,  birthdays  and  other  seasons 
of  festivity,  afford  ample  scope  for  these  out- 
bursts of  natural  feeling,  which  ought  to  be 
encouraged  as  a  means  of  keeping  up  the 
natural  and  healthy  tone  of  youthful  minds ; 
for  as  an  hour  now  and  then  of  absolute  romp- 
ing does  infinite  good  to  the  bodily  health,  so 
an  hour  now  and  then  of  unrestrained  and 
absolute  merriment,  does  equal  good  to  the 
spirits  and  characters  of  children. 

In  a  rude  and  ill-regulated  family,  it  is  to 
be  feared  that  such  seasons  would  be  marked 
by  turbulence  and  disaster,  beyond  what  could 
be  rendered  conducive  to  much  enjoyment, 
especially  on  the  part  of  the  older  members ; 
but  I  am  supposing  the  case  of  a  well-regu- 
lated family,  so  trained  by  the  mother,  and 
so  under  the  influence  of  delicate,  affectionate, 
and  generous  feelings,  that  their  wildest  play 
would  not  be  rude,  nor  their  loudest  mirth  of- 
fensive. 

It  seems  to  be  one  of  the  peculiarities  of 
English  character  not  to  know  how  to  man- 
age  enjoyment ;  while  our  neighbors  on  the 
continent,  sometimes  manage  it  a  little  too 
much.  Those  elaborate  or  costly  presents  by 
which  they  are  so  fond  of  creating  a  beauti- 


ful surprise,  those  birthday  scenes  got  up 
with  so  much  machinery  of  contrivance,  and 
all  those  periodical  displays  of  generosity  and 
affection,  though  admirably  adapted  to  figure 
in  a  book,  have  a  little  too  much  make-believe 
about  them,  to  be  exactly  suited  to  the  reality 
of  English- habits.  Besides  which,  there  al- 
ways hangs  about  an  English  heart  a  certain 
dread  of  failure,  a  horror  of  being  committed 
in  an  act  of  folly,  and  a  shrinking  from  ridicule, 
which  greatly  lessen  the  number  of  our  enjoy- 
ments, and  often  casts  a  shadow  over  the  gaiety 
which  might  otherwise  be  both  harmless  and 
refreshing.  There  is  also,  it  must  be  confess- 
ed, a  something  desperate  and  extreme  about 
the  English  character  when  strongly  excited 
and  destitute  of  restraint,  which  seems  to  ren- 
der greater  restriction  necessary  in  a  social 
point  of  view,  than  is  required  by  people  of 
some  other  countries ;  yet  I  cannot  but  think 
that  much  of  this,  and  much  that  we  see  and 
grieve  over  in  the  conduct  of  our  country- 
people  abroad,  arises  from  the  want  of  better 
regulation  in  private  families,  of  higher  aims 
in  the  union  of  taste  with  feeling ;  but  chiefly 
from  the  absence  of  all  care  that  the  happi- 
ness of  children  should  be  encouraged  to  the 
utmost  extent  which  good  order  will  allow, 
but  at  the  same  time  blended  with  a  little  more 
nicety  as  to  the  choice  of  means,  a  little  more 
tact  on  the  part  of  mothers,  sisters,  and  mis- 
tresses of  families,  a  little  more  taste — in  short, 
a  little  more  of  the  true  poetry  of  life,  so  that 
the  general  tone  of  the  mind,  even  in  its  joy- 
ous moments,  shall  be  in  strict  harmony  with 
good  feeling. 

Were  this  the  case,  I  believe  we  should  all 
live  in  less  fear  of  youth  overleaping  the  ac- 
customed barrier  of  good  manners,  so  as  to 
run  riot  in  its  excess  of  merriment ;  a.nd  while 
by  the  same  means  we  should  learn  to  suffer 
less  from  the  dread  of  being  ridiculous,  we 
should  be  more  generally  cheerful,  and,  upon 
the  whole,  more  happy  than  we  are. 

And  to  whom  are  we  to  look  for  improving 
at  once  the  manners  and  the  morals  of  social 
life  in  this  most  delicate  point,  but  to  the 
mothers  of  England  *  Servants  and  nurses, 
in  whose  company  so  many  children  are  aU 


INDIVIDUAL  AND  SOCIAL  HAPPINESS. 


lowed  to  play  without  restraint,  and  in  n 
other ;  they  are  not  fit  for  such  a  task.  Fa 
thers  are  seldom  present,  and  when  they  are 
they  want  the  nicety  and  the  tact  to  manag 
the  minute  affairs  of  domestic  life,  and  espe 
cially  those  of  individual  feeling.  It  is  t< 
mothers  then,  alone,  that  we  can  look  for  th 
improvement  so  much  needed  here ;  and  with 
all  woman's  taste  and  tact,  her  quickness  o 
feeling,  play  of  fancy,  minuteness  of  observa 
tion,  and  facility  of  adaptation  to  circumstan 
ces;  with  all  a  mother's  love  in  addition  to 
these,  she  wants  only  a  higher  sense  of  a 
mother's  duty  to  convince  her  that  the  joyous 
moments — the  holidays  of  mirth  which  her 
children  are  permitted  to  enjoy,  are  those 
which  she,  above  all  other  human  beings,  has 
the  privilege  of  sharing,  and,  at  the  same  time 
of  converting  into  lasting  good. 

There  is  no  reason  why  children  should  be 
either  selfish  or  vulgar  in  their  mirth ;  yet  how 
many  do  we  find  who  can  be  well-behaved 
in  what  is  called  company,  and  yet  when  let 
loose  to  play,  are  a  disgrace  to  their  parents ; 
who,  perhaps,  from  never  associating  them- 
selves with  their  children's  merriment,  but 
having  been  accustomed  to  send  them  always 
into  the  nursery  to  play,  and  into  the  compa- 
ny of  servants  to  run  wild,  have  imposed  up- 
on them  a  sort  of  artificial  restraint,  which 
makes  them  decent  and  tolerable  only  while 
it  lasts,  but  leaves  them,  whenever  it  is  with- 
drawn, perfect  monsters  of  rudeness,  turbu- 
lence, and  disorder. 

It  is  not  difficult  to  foresee  that  such  chil- 
dren will  grow  up  with  a  constant  liability  to 
commit  themselves  in  after  life,  which,  under 
the  most  favorable  circumstances,  will  mark 
their  habits  with  a  want  of  ease  and  of  true 
refinement ;  while,  under  unfavorable  circum- 
stances, it  will  not  improbably  be  the  means 
of  leading  them  into  egregious  folly,  gross 
xcess,  or  fatal  error. 

I  would  not  willingly  be  supposed  to  forget 
hat  religious  principle  alone  is  sufficient  to 
5 reserve  even  such  persons  as  are  here  de- 
scribed, from  the  extremes  alluded  to  ;  but  I 
am  also  aware,  that  even  in  religious  charac- 
ers,  there  are  sometimes  strange  anomalies, 


deviations  from  true  taste,  and  even  uncon 
scious  offences  against  good  feeling,  which 
do  incalculable  harm  to  the  interests  of  re 
ligion  ;  and  I  am  therefore  the  more  earnes. 
in   writing   on  this    subject,    that    mothers 
should  begin  in  time  by  laying  the  founda 
tion  of  lovely,  good,  and  happy  characters 
at  once. 

We  sometimes  find  among  truly  excellen 
persons,  a  painful  and  unnatural  kind  of 
dread  of  being  too  cheerful ;  and  where  the 
pleasures  of  childhood  have  been  wholly 
neglected,  where  buoyant  spirits  have  been 
allowed  to  run  and  riot  without  a  mother's 
care,  there  is  unquestionably  great  danger  of 
the  barrier  of  propriety  being  broken  through 
in  after  life  by  the  indulgence  of  cheerfulness. 
But  how  deeply  it  is  to  be  regretted,  mat  that 
particular  state  of  mind  which  is  in  reality 
the  most  truly  happy,  should  be  deterred,  by 
fear,  from  exhibiting  itself  before  the  world 
in  its  natural  character  of  healthy  cheerful- 
ness, and  thus  give  cause  for  an  opinion,  too 
frequently  entertained,  that  religion  is  a 
gloomy  thing !  If  by  no  other  reason  the 
pious  mother  can  be  convinced  of  the  im- 
portance of  her  influence  in  this  particular 
sphere  of  duty,  surely  it  is  sufficient,  if  by 
sharing  with  her  children  in  their  harmless 
mirth,  and  teaching  them  how  to  be  happy 
without  offence  to  God  or  man,  she  can 
beautify  their  characters  in  after  life  with 
more  of  those  graces  of  mind  and  manners, 
which  are  at  once  attractive  to  the  world,  and 
lonorable  to  the  cause  of  religion. 

As  the  first  and  surest  means  of  promoting 
ndividual,  as  well  as  social  happiness,  I 
would  propose  the  cultivation  of  a  spirit  of 
ove.  The  more  we  love,  the  less  our 
houghts  and  interests  are  centred  in  self; 
,nd  consequently  the  less  we  suffer  from  all 
hose  little  personal  slights,  vexations,  and 
disappointments,  which  so  often  imbitter  the 
up  of  life.  The  more  we  love,  also,  the 
nore  we  forgive  ;  and  to  whom  much  is  for- 

n,  the  same  loveth  much;  BO  that  nothing 
s  more  true,  than  that  love  begets  love  in  re- 
urn.  Thus  then  our  energies  are  drawn 
ut  into  those  kindred  charities,  which, 


54 


THE  MOTHERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


whether  given  or  received  in  the  true  spirit 
of  generous  affection,  have  power  to  lighten 
every  burden  we  have  to  bear,  and  to  sweet- 
en every  draught  of  which  we  have  to  drink. 
The  more  we  love,  the  more  we  enjoy  the 
inestimable  privilege  of  being  able  to  ask  a 
blessing  upon  what  we  desire,  and  upon 
what  we  do ;  because  we  can  neither  lie 
down  at  night,  nor  rise  to  the  duties  of  the 
day,  without  bearing  in  our  hearts  the  re- 
membrance of  that  sweet  fellowship,  which 
binds  together  the  whole  human  race  as  one 
family,  under  the  protection  of  our  Father 
who  is  in  heaven. 

How  little  is  understood  of  the  real  value 
and  right  exercise  of  love,  by  those  morbid 
miserable  beings,  who  fix  their  whole  hopes 
of  happiness  upon  one,  or  two,  or  many,  and 
think  they  are  loving,  while  they  are  only 
thirsting  to  be  loved — only  waiting  in  anxious 
and  fretful  expectation  for  evidence  that  they 
are  so ;  or  recoiling  from  the  world  with  dis- 
appointment and  spleen  on  every  cause  for 
suspicion  that  they  are  not  Such  persons 
generally  keep  a  strict  account  against  so- 
ciety, of  what  they  consider  due  to  them- 
selves, as  well  as  of  what  they  receive.  Yet 
they  forget  to  compare  it  with  another  ac- 
count— with  what  is  due  from  them,  and 
what  they  actually  give. 

But  there  is  no  calculation,  and  there 
needs  no  account,  on  the  part  of  those  whose 
hearts  have  been  imbued  in  early  childhood 
with  the  true  spirit  of  love.  To  such  it  be- 
comes as  the  very  breath  of  life,  for  without 
being  able  to  love,  they  would  pine  and  with- 
er. IfJ  in  the  interchange  of  kind  offices, 
they  occasionally  find  themselves  neglected, 
what  is  that  to  them?  In  their  love  they 
seek  only  the  good  and  the  happiness  of  oth- 
ers, and  that  is  generally  more  or  less  in 
their  power  to  promote.  If  the  beings  by 
whom  they  are  surrounded,  and  perhaps 
even  the  nearest  and  the  dearest,  are  not  all 
they  desire,  it  is  the  noblest  exercise  of  love 
to  forgive,  and  the  next  to  endeavor  to  im- 
prove. If  also,  in  the  exercise  of  affection, 
they  meet  sometimes  with  but  little  or  no  re- 
turn, they  accept  the  rebuke  as  from  a  Fa- 


ther, who,  in  chastening  those  whom  he 
loves,  has  appointed  such  means  for  leading 
them  into  closer  self-examination,  into  strict- 
er watchfulness,  and  more  faithful  endeavors, 
in  order  that  no  fault  indulged,  no  opportu- 
nity neglected,  and  no  faculty  unemployed, 
may  stand  in  the  way  of  rendering  the  ser- 
vice he  has  enjoined,  as  a  duty  we  owe  one 
towards  another,  more  acceptable  in  his 
sight 

Such  then  is  the  effect  of  an  early  and 
consistent  exercise  of  the  spirit  of  love,  ex- 
tending in  the  first  place  to  all  beneath  the 
paternal  roof,  and  afterwards  throughout  the 
varied  intercourse  we  hold  with  society — a 
spirit,  which,  where  it  is  rightly  exercised, 
has  no  tendency  to  blind  us  to  the  faults  of 
others,  or  to  lead  us  to  undervalue  those 
proofs  of  affection  which  are  really  directed 
to  ourselves ;  but  which  creates  around  us 
a  kind  of  genial  atmosphere,  too  clear  and 
bright  for  the  weeds  which  grow  around  our 
path  to  remain  undiscovered  ;  yet,  at  the 
same  time,  so  pure,  healthy,  and  invigor- 
ating, as  to  stimulate  to  eager  cultivation  of 
the  flowers,  secure  in  the  confidence  that 
they  will  abundantly  repay  our  care. 

Nor  should  we  forget,  in  the  contemplation 
of  this  subject  especially,  that  beautiful  har- 
mony in  the  order  of  Providence,  by  which 
all  that  is  best  adapted  to  produce  good  to 
others,  is  in  reality  most  conducive  to  our 
own  happiness.  Had  we  been  created  only 
to  feel  happy  in  the  exercise  of  those  pas- 
sions which  dissever  families,  and  break  asun- 
der the  bonds  of  society,  how  different  would 
have  been  our  situation  on  earth !  But  in 
the  benign  commandment  of  the  Saviour  to 
his  disciples  that  they  should  love  one  ano- 
ther, in  making  this  love  even  the  test  of 
their  fellowship  with  him,  we  recognize  at 
once  a  principle,  which,  above  all  others,  has 
power  to  bless  and  to  bind  on  earth,  while  it 
constitutes  a  passport  to  the  blessedness  and 
the  union  of  heaven. 

Next  in  degree  to  the  exercise  of  the  af- 
fections, as  a  means  of  promoting  individual 
as  well  as  social  happiness,  is  that  of  one  of 
the  faculties  of  the  human  mind,  the  cultiva- 


INDIVIDUAL  AND  SOCIAL  HAPPINESS. 


55 


tion  of  which  is  too  little  regarded  in  the 
training  of  youth.  I  mean  the  faculty  of  ad- 
miration, which,  if  properly  directed,  under 
the  influence  of  religious  feeling,  has  the  ef- 
fect of  raising,  by  imperceptible  degrees,  the 
moral  nature  of  man  in  his  intellectual,  as 
well  as  his  spiritual  enjoyments. 

It  is  too  much  the  tendency  of  the  present 
day  to  confine  the  exercise  of  admiration  to 
what  is  of  man's  invention,  elaborate,  costly, 
and  artificial — to  the  arts  and  manufactures 
which  belong  to  a  high  state  of  civilization,  to 
the  patent  inventions  of  the  day,  to  the  new- 
est fabrics,  or  the  most  expensive  ornaments 
— in  short,  to  all  which  may  be  regarded  as 
characteristic  of  an  "  age  of  great  cities ;" 
rather  than  to  a  development  of  those  princi- 
ples of  harmony  and  beauty,  which  pervade 
the  universe  at  large.  I  presume  not  to  say 
that  these  are  not  good — good  in  a  certain 
manner,  and  to  a  certain  extent;  but  good 
as  the  objects  of  our  highest  admiration,  they 
certainly  are  not,  and  especially  for  this  rea- 
son— because  they  are  material,  and  only  grat- 
ify the  senses,  without  leaving  any  beneficial 
or  indelible  impression  upon  the  soul. 

The  cultivation  of  a  true  taste  necessarily 
belongs  to  this  part  of  our  subject,  because  it 
rests  very  much  with  parents  to  direct  their 
children's  admiration  as  they  choose  ;  and 
whatever  they  most  admire,  becomes  natu- 
rally the  standard  of  true  taste  to  them.  It 
may  fairly  be  said,  then,  that  the  taste  of  the 
present  day  is  for  every  thing  material.  When 
young  people  now  turn  their  attention  to  in- 
tellectual pursuits,  it  is  to  collect  specimens, 
not  ideas.  Imagination  in  its  higher  walks  is 
discarded,  and  even  our  works  of  fiction  are 
only  valued  so  far  as  they  present  a  succes- 
sion of  active  scenes,  so  exaggerated  as  to 
produce  the  effect  of  startling  the  senses.  All 
this  may  be  tolerated  in  the  present  genera- 
tion, because  we  have  yet  among  us  the  re- 
mains of  a  higher  order  of  thought  and  feel- 
ing ;  but  it  will  tell  to  a  lamentable  extent 
upon  the  next,  when  all  enthusiasm  for  poe- 
try and  the  fine  arts  will  have  become  extinct. 
Already  it  may  be  said  that  poetry  is  banish- 
ed from  our  world  ;  and  if  painting  still  lin- 


gers on  the  stage  of  public  observation,  it  is 
too  much  regarded  as  a  scene — a  show — a 
pageant  of  the  moment,  and  no  more.  It  is 
true  that  music  has  burst  forth  among  the 
million,  to  assert  its  rights  as  a  natural  and 
almost  necessary  gratification ;  but  it  is  to  be 
feared  that  the  machinery  by  which  it  is  got 
up,  the  noise,  and  the  exhibition,  have  more 
to  do  with  this  means  of  enjoyment,  than  the 
voice  and  the  language  which  it  offers  to  the 
music  of  the  soul. 

I  am  aware  that  I  am  venturing  upon  dan- 
derous  ground,  presuming  to  oppose  a  mere 
straw  or  a  feather,  to  the  great  tide  of  popu- 
lar feeling,  but  when  one  has  the  means  of 
speaking  to  the  many,  it  becomes  a  sacred 
duty  to  say  in  what  we  really  think  mankind 
are  regardless  of  their  happiness  and  their 
good. 

Now  it  must  be  evident  to  all  who  think 
seriously  on  this  subject,  that  if  we  fix  our 
ideas  of  the  highest  excellence,  and  conse- 
quently our  admiration  upon  what  is  mate- 
rial, costly,  and  elaborate,  our  happiness  in 
this  world  must  depend  upon  our  pecuniary 
means,  for  without  money  there  can  be  no  pos- 
session of  this  material  excellence.  Hence, 
then,  the  strife,  the  turmoil,  the  dread  in 
which  we  live,  lest  adverse  circumstances, 
the  change  of  public  fancy,  the  lowering  of 
markets,  or  the  failure  of  a  bargain,  should 
deprive  us  of  that  which  is  our  chief,  or  only 
source  of  enjoyment.  It  is  evident  too,  that 
there  can  be  no  refreshment  to  the  mind,  in 
the  pursuit  of  this  material  excellence ;  be- 
cause there  is  nothing  in  it  which  brings  the 
thoughts  into  necessary  and  direct  relation  to 
the  Supreme  Being ;  and  hence  the  weari- 
ness with  which  so  many  thousands  pursue 
their  unremitting  avocations,  not  one  half  of 
the  faculties,  with  which  as  immortal  beings 
they  are  endowed,  having  found  exercise  in 
what  constitutes  the  business  of  their  lives. 

For  the  remedy  of  this  evil,  I  am  not  vision- 
ary enough  to  look  to  any  alteration  in  our 
political  economy,  or  to  suppose  that  a  new 
company  will  start  up  to  protect  the  poetry  of 
life;  but  I  still  think  that  much  might  be 
done  by  mothers  to  instil  into  the  minds  of 


THE  MOTHERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


children  a  higher  taste,  and  at  the  same  time 
one  which  would  be  productive  of  more  last- 
ing  happiness.  The  season  in  all  probability 
will  come,  when  their  children  will  have  to 
mix  with  the  many  in  a  course  of  action 
which  scarcely  admits  of  time  for  the  exercise 
of  thought,  beyond  such  mental  calculations 
as  are  required  in  carrying  on  the  business 
of  the  day  ;  and  since  the  dull  routine  of  ne- 
cessary occupation  in  the  present  times  pre- 
vents in  a  great  measure  those  stirring  and 
intense  emotions  which  fix  impressions  indel- 
ibly upon  the  mind,  it  becomes  a  more  im- 
portant duty  on  the  part  of  mothers,  to  seek 
for  their  children  those  sources  of  enjoy- 
ment which  the  natural  world  affords — those 
sources  of  enjoyment  of  which  a  reverse  of 
fortune  will  not  be  likely  to  deprive  them ; 
which  require  no  strife  or  contention  to  ob- 
tain; which  can  be  shared  with  the  whole 
human  race,  and  still  enhanced  by  sharing ; 
and  which,  while  they  expand  and  invigorate 
the  mind,  throw  it  open  to  clear  and  indeli- 
ble impressions  of  the  wisdom,  the  power, 
and  the  goodness  of  its  Creator. 

That  natural  joyousness  of  childhood,  which 
is  the  surest  and  the  happiest  medium  for 
receiving  impressions,  is  best  cultivated  in  a 
country  life.  Where  this  cannot  be  enjoyed 
altogether,  it  is  the  duty  of  parents  to  take 
their  children  into  the  country  sometimes, 
and  as  often  as  they  can  ;  and  if  such  sea- 
sons of  relaxation  be  properly  employed,  the 
time  and  money  bestowed  upon  them  will 
not  be  found  wasted. 

It  is  worth  some  cost,  and  some  effort,  to 
give  young  people  lasting  and  deep  impres- 
sions of  the  beautiful  and  sublime  in  nature  ; 
nor  need  this  be  confined  to  nature  alone  ;  for, 
having  imbibed  such  impressions,  they  will 
ever  afterwards  be  able  to  recognize  the  same 
principles  in  art.  Yet  how  often,  instead  of 
roaming  over  hills,  listening  to  waterfalls, 
and  holding  converse  with  the  spirit  of  na- 
ture, are  children  taken  in  the  summer  to 
fashionable  bathing-places,  or  other  scenes  of 
public  resort,  to  wear  their  best  clothes,  walk 
out  in  tight  shoes,  and  hear  their  mammas 
and  aunts  descant  upon  the  elegance  of  the 


Dutchess  of  D — 's  equipage  !  How  often  is 
the  conversation,  during  their  walks  on  the 
public  promenades,  filled  up  with  what  dis- 
tinguished persons  have  arrived  at  the  new 
Hotel ;  what  bonnet  was  worn  by  Lady  B — ; 
who  danced  with  the  young  heiress  ;  and  to 
what  places,  but  particularly  to  what  shops, 
all  the  world  resorts  !  And  this  is  called  go- 
ing into  the  country  !  If  such  be  going  into 
the  country,  we  may  safely  say  it  is  taking 
the  town  along  with  us. 

Oh,  never  let  such  an  insult  be  offered  to 
the  trusting  heart  of  youth,  as  to  call  that  na- 
ture, which  the  "  glass  of  fashion"  offers  to 
our  view !  If  young  people  go  to  breathe  the 
invigorating  sea-breezes,  let  them,  in  justice 
to  nature,  see  the  great  ocean  as  it  really  is, 
broad,  bold,  and  deep,  without  the  fringe  of 
fashion  on  its  shores.  Let  them  listen  to  the 
roaring  waves,  and  run  before  the  sparkling 
foam,  and  watch  the  hollow  breakers  rise  and 
curl,  and  dash  themselves  to  rest  Or  let 
them,  on  still  evenings,  see  the  moonlight  on 
the  water,  her  silver  pathway  over  the  great 
deep  crossed  at  intervals  by  the  fisherman's 
lonely  bark,  while  his  rugged  form  appears 
for  a  moment  in  dark  relief,  as  if  contrasting 
the  corporeal  with  the  spiritual  And  then 
let  music  break  the  silence — music  soft  and 
sweet,  and  long  remembered ;  for  these  are 
pictures  graven  on  the  mind  ;  and  the  sounds 
then  whispered  to  the  soul,  are  like  the  lan- 
guage it  was  born  with  for  the  utterance  of 
its  secret  joys. 

Let  parents  sometimes  take  their  children 
to  the  wild  hills,  where  the  foot  of  fashion 
has  never  trod.  Let  them  pluck  the  forest 
flowers,  and  weave  garlands  of  the  purple 
heather,  and  spread  their  arms  to  catch  the 
breeze,  and  look  abroad  from  the  bold  height, 
on,  far  away — away  into  the  distance,  until 
they  see  the  littleness  of  intervening  things. 
Let  them  descend  into  the  valley,  go  into  the 
cottages  of  the  poor,  and  talk  with  the  shep- 
herd of  the  phenomena  of  winds  and  clouds. 
Let  them  learn  of  him  what  observations  he 
has  made  in  his  lone  watchings  among  the 
hills.  Let  them  ask  of  the  peasant  about 
seed-time  and  harvest ;  let  them  taste  of  his 


INDIVIDUAL  AND  SOCIAL  HAPPINESS. 


57 


household  bread;  let  them  listen  to  the  le- 
gends of  the  place,  the  old  wife's  story,  the 
history  of  the  fairy-ring,  or  of  the  castle  where 
the  great  lord  dwelt  in  the  ancient  times. 
Let  them  trace  the  course  of  the  mountain 
stream  from  the  far  heights  where  it  falls  in- 
to a  stony  basin  drop  by  drop,  down  the  cat- 
aract steps  by  which  it  leaps  into  the  plain  ; 
and  then  show  them  the  same  stream  in  the 
distance,  a  calm  deep  river  winding  its  sil- 
very way  towards  the  sea.  Nor  let  them 
overlook  the  beautiful  and  no  less  wonderful 
minutiae  of  nature — the  grasshopper  in  the 
rich  meadow,  the  wild  bees  among  the 
broom,  or  the  trout  in  the  sylvan  stream. 
Teach  them  then  to  know  the  song  of  every 
warbler  in  the  summer  woods  ;  point  out  to 
them  the  old  rookery  around  the  chimneys 
of  the  farm-house  ;  and  all  the  while  describe 
to  them  the  wonders  of  the  vast  realm  of  na- 
ture, with  the  habits  and  instincts  of  those  in- 
numerable tribes,  scarcely  heard  of  in  our 
cities ;  so  that  they  shall  feel,  and  under- 
stand, and  remember,  by  the  strong  impres- 
sions produced  upon  the  spot,  that  there  has 
been  at  work,  in  all  this,  some  mighty  and  all- 
pervading  Power,  before  whom  the  inven- 
tions of  man  are  but  as  the  honey  and  the 
comb  of  the  little  hive  beneath  the  rays  of  a 
noonday  sun. 

If  I  were  asked  to  point  out  the  happiest 
situation  on  earth,  I  believe  I  should  say — 
that  in  which  children  enjoy  a  free  life  in  the 
country,  shared  with  affectionate  brothers 
and  sisters,  and  watched  over  by  kind  and 
judicious  parents.  Yet  how  little  pains  are 
taken  to  procure  this  happiness  for  children  ! 
How  much  more  intent  are  persons  in  gene- 
ral upon  obtaining  handsome  drawing-rooms, 
and  costly  dresses — in  short,  upon  keeping 
up  that  external  appearance,  which  is  a  pass- 
port to  what  is  called  good  society.  And 
when  the  drawing-room  is  furnished,  the 
dresses  purchased,  and  the  appearance  un- 
exceptionable, what  is  it  all  worth?  Not 
one  of  the  thousand  aches  of  head  and 
heart  which  the  extreme  of  material  excel- 
lence must  under  ordinary  circumstances 
cost 


But  I  shall  be  accused  of  barbarism— of 
wishing  to  go  back  to  a  state  of  nature,  and 
to  live  on  forest-fruit,  if  I  write  in  this  strain ; 
for  it  would  require  volumes  to  explain  the 
subject  fully,  in  all  its  bearings  upon  human 
happiness.  Suffice  it  then  to  say,  that  it  is 
only  the  excess  of  admiration  bestowed  upon 
material  excellence,  of  which  I  complain — the 
habit  of  admiring  only  what  money  can  pro- 
cure ;  and  consequently  of  neglecting  those 
sources  of  happiness  which  are  offered  freely 
to  all,  and  the  enjoyment  of  which  is  associ- 
ated with  activity  and  cheerfulness — with 
health,  both  of  body  and  mind. 

By  confining  our  taste  too  much  to  what 
is  at  the  same  time  material  and  artificial,  we 
discard  imagination  from  the  sphere  of  our 
enjoyments,  and  consequently  contract  and 
vulgarize  our  means  of  gratification.  There 
may  be  a  play  of  fancy  in  the  invention  of  a 
new  pattern — there  may  be  a  display  of  ele- 
gance in  the  furnishing  of  a  house — there 
may  be  an  agreeable  combination  of  colors  in 
a  fashionable  costume,  and  all  these  are  wor- 
thy of  admiration,  in  their  way ;  but  such  ob- 
jects of  admiration  do  not  expand  the  feel- 
ings and  elevate  the  soul ;  they  merely  de- 
velop in  a  familiar  and  practical  form,  those 
principles  of  order,  harmony,  and  beauty, 
which  ought  previously  to  have  been  im- 
pressed upon  the  mind  by  the  more  striking 
phenomena  of  nature.  In  order  properly  to 
enjoy  the  works  of  art,  these  principles  should 
previously  have  been  recognized  in  their 
more  distinct  and  intelligible  cnaracters.  In 
order  to  be  duly  appreciated,  beauty  should 
some  time  or  other  have  burst,  as  it  were, 
upon  the  eye  and  the  mind  of  the  child  at 
once.  It  should  have  been  constrained  to 
admire  it,  and  to  admire  it  heartily  ;  for  it  is 
important  to  our  happiness  that  we  should  be 
able  to  admire  with  warmth,  and  even  with 
enthusiasm  ;  and  pitiable  indeed  is  that  be- 
ing, who,  after  spending  a  life  in  learning 
what  ought  to  be  admired,  finds  at  last  that 
the  power  is  wanting. 

With  regard  to  imagination,  it  is  often 
spoken  of  as  a  dangerous  faculty,  and  treated 
as  if  given  for  man's  misery,  rather  than  his 


58 


THE  MOTHERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


good  ;  yet  surely  it  must  in  justice  be  allow- 
ed, that  if,  in  connection  with  an  ill-regulated 
mind,  imagination  is  capable  of  rendering 
sorrow  more  intense,  it  is  equally  capable  of 
enhancing,  under  more  favorable  circum- 
stances, all  our  highest  and  most  refined  en- 
joyments. 

Why  then  should  we  wish  to  discard  the 
use  of  this  faculty  altogether  1  The  fact  is, 
we  cannot  discard  it  Imagination  is  ever  at 
work,  combining  preconceived  impressions 
into  new  and  striking  forms ;  and  where  no 
allowance  is  made  for  the  exercise  of  this 
faculty — where  it  is  pent  up  without  any 
natural  or  appropriate  outlet — it  will  burst 
forth  like  a  smothered  flame,  and  in  all  prob- 
ability deface  or  consume,  when  it  .might 
have  illuminated  with  a  welcome  and  cheer- 
ing light 

I  was  once  in  a  dark  parlor  in  the  midst 
of  a  great  city,  where  a  little  child,  just  able 
to  lisp  a  few  words,  was  busily  employed  in 
playing  that  he  gathered  up  the  green  of  the 
carpet,  which  he  called  parsley,  and  pretend- 
ed to  lay  in  handfuls  upon  a  stool,  which  also 
boasted  some  corresponding  green.  "  Don't 
say  so,  my  dear.  It  is  not  parsley ;"  said 
the  father  several  times,  in  serious  concern 
for  his  little  boy's  veracity.  Alas !  poor  child ! 
the  only  notion  it  had  ever  formed  of  any  thing 
fresh  and  green,  was  of  the  parsley  it  had 
seen  garnishing  a  dish ;  and  this  idea,  with 
which  its  imagination  was  so  busy,  was  to 
be  utterly  extinguished,  because  it  was  only 
an  idea,  and  not  a  reality.  The  child,  if  it 
wished  to  amuse  itself,  would  have  to  begin 
again  with  another  set  of  ideas,  with  the 
faded  worsted,  and  the  little  old  stool  it  had 
played  with  so  often  before.  It  is  needless 
to  say,  that  with  the  extinction  of  its  notion 
about  the  green  parsley,  its  pleasant  illusion 
was  gone.  It  might  strike,  and  pull,  and  lift, 
or  act  the  mere  animal  in  any  other  way,  for 
under  such  circumstances  there  was  little  else 
to  be  done ;  but  it  might  not  use  again  the 
remembrance  of  a  sprig  of  green  parsley,  so 
as  to  beautify  with  this  image  the  little  world 
in  which  it  was  pent  up. 

The  father  of  this  child  was  a  talented  and 


excellent  man,  himself  an  enthusiastic  admirer 
of  poetry,  but  he  had  probably  never  reflect- 
ed upon  the  important  place  which  imagina- 
tion occupies  in  the  minds  of  those  who  enjoy 
the  purest  happiness,  as  well  as  those  to  which 
the  greatest  influence  over  others  belongs. 
He  was  not  one,  however,  who  could  have 
failed  to  observe  that  the  language  of  the 
Holy  Scriptures  is  pre-eminent  in  its  display 
of  the  exercise  of  imagination.  In  all  the 
most  impressive  sermons  too,  and  in  all  those 
appeals  to  the  human  heart  which  produce 
the  strongest  conviction  and  the  deepest  effect, 
imagination  is  the  instrument  chiefly  made 
use  of,  although  often  unconsciously,  by  the 
speaker. 

Since  then  we  cannot,  if  we  would,  destroy 
this  faculty,  and  since  moreover  it  is  capable 
of  elevating,  at  the  same  time  that  it  enlarges, 
the  sphere  of  our  enjoyments,  we  should  seek 
for  it  an  appropriate  and  healthy  exercise, 
even  in  the  season  of  early  youth.  And  here 
it  is  especially  to  be  observed,  that  it  is  to  the 
uninformed,  the  indolent,  and  the  low-mind- 
ed, that  imagination  is  the  most  dangerous 
in  its  exercise.  When  the  mind  is  well  stored, 
as  well  as  well  regulated,  the  habits  active 
and  industrious,  and  the  taste  truly  elevated 
and  refined,  works  of  imagination  and  speci- 
men ts  of  art,  as  a  means  of  gratification,  may 
be  allowed  to  a  much  greater  extent,  than 
when  the  associations  are  vulgar,  and  the 
fancy  consequently  likely  to  be  caught  by 
what  is  least  worthy  of  attention.  An  intense 
and  absorbing  admiration  of  what  is  excellent 
in  poetry  and  art,  will  lead  the  mind  which  is 
imbued  with  a  deep  sense  of  beauty,  over  much 
that  a  coarse  or  vulgar  mind  would  detect 
as  objectionable,  and  which  would  in  reality 
be  so  to  it  We  cannot  therefore  be  too  care- 
ful how  we  introduce  to  characters  of  this 
stamp,  even  those  works  of  imagination  which 
all  the  world  has  conceded  the  right  to  be 
considered  as  standards  of  excellence.  There 
are  many  pleasures  for  the  low-minded  in 
their  own  way,  and  they  ought  to  be  content 
with  these,  rather  than  endeavor  to  lay  hold 
of  such  as  they  are  neither  capable  of  appre- 
ciating, nor  of  turning  to  good  account 


INDIVIDUAL  AND  SOCIAL  HAPPINESS. 


59 


It  is  too  common  to  call  that  modesty, 
which  is  only  vulgar-mindedness  ;  but  on  the 
other  hand,  it  is  the  mothe/s  delicate  part  so 
to  watch  over  the  impressions  and  associa- 
tions of  her  children,  as  to  guard  them  with 
the  most  scrupulous  care,  wherever  delicacy 
of  feeling  is  concerned  ;  because  if  once  de- 
stroyed, the  purity  of  the  mind  will  in  all 
probability  never  be  restored.  There  will  be 
much  in  their  future  intercourse  with  the 
world  to  blunt  the  fine  edge  of  feeling,  and 
therefore  it  is  better  a  thousand  times  to  go 
forth  into  society  a  little  too  scrupulous,  than 
too  regardless  of  that  nice  boundary-line 
which  marks  out  the  limits  of  true  delicacy 
of  feeling. 

Next  to  the  study  of  nature,  I  believe  that 
of  the  fine  arts  has  much  to  do  with  refining 
the  character,  and  raising  it  above  those  grov- 
elling and  vulgar  interests  which  occupy 
too  much  of  our  time  and  thoughts.  I  forget 
what  writer  uses  the  expression,  but  it  has 
been  well  said,  that  "  the  too  great  keenness 
of  our  uncharitable  temper  may  almost  al- 
ways be  softened  by  a  taste  for  the  pictu- 
resque, as  well  as  the  harmonious;"  and 
certain  it  is,  that  a  mind  deeply  impressed 
with  a  sense  of  the  beautiful,  conversant  with 
the  principles  of  taste,  and  enriched  with  the 
treasures  of  imagination,  will  be  less  likely 
than  one  whose  admiration  has  never  been 
attracted  by  subjects  of  this  nature,  to  occupy 
itself  with  the  little  bickerings  and  jealousies 
which  arise  out  of  interests  of  a  mere  local 
and  transitory  nature. 

We  should  take  care  then,  that  in  the  en- 
joyments of  children,  there  is  blended  a  refer- 
ence to  the  principles  of  true  taste  ;  and,  as 
in  all  things  relating  to  the  training  of  youth, 
we  ought  to  act  upon  the  plan  of  excluding 
what  is  objectionable,  by  filling  up  the  space 
with  what  is  good  ;  so  we  ought  to  begin 
early  to  cultivate  a  just  estimate  of  what  is 
really  worthy  of  admiration.  How  few  persons 
think  of  this,  who  live  in  great  cities,  and 
take  their  children  to  see  all  the  passing  shows 
of  the  day,  in  preference  to  those  objects  of 
deep  and  lasting  interest  from  which  a  true 
taste  might  be  formed  !  How  many  too,  on 


taking  their  children  for  the  first  time  to 
London,  fly  here  and  there  in  pursuit  of 
sights  which  will  be  forgotten  in  a  month,  and 
never  spare  a  quiet  half-hour  for  Westminster 
Abbey,  or  for  any  of  those  exhibitions  of 
sculpture  and  painting,  where  they  may  both 
think  and  feel— where  they  may  drink  from 
the  fountain  of  beauty,  and  be  still. 

I  do  not  mean  to  say  that  children  at  a  very 
early  age  would  derive  any  benefit  from  such 
objects  of  attraction.  It  would  be  a  waste  of 
effort  to  attempt  to  introduce  to  their  minds 
any  conception  of  beauty,  as  an  abstract  idea. 
But  there  is  a  time  when  a  sense  01  the  beau- 
tiful, the  harmonious,  and  the  sublime,  begins 
to  dawn  upon  the  soul ;  and  the  mother,  if 
she  has  any  poetry  in  her  own  nature,  knows 
well  how  to  discern  the  commencement  of 
this  new  existence,  for  I  can  call  it  nothing 
less. 

One  of  the  symptoms  of  this  change,  is  a 
habit  of  deep  thought  I  have  thus  far  spoken 
of  individual  happiness  chiefly  in  its  character 
of  cheerfulness  and  joy ;  but  we  all  know 
that  there  is,  beyond  this,  a  happiness  more 
profound,  and  that  all  deep  happiness  is  still. 
Children  vary  much  in  their  capability  for 
this  feeling.  Some  begin  at  a  very  early  age 
to  creep  quietly  to  the  mother's  side,  and  to 
lead  her  out  into  converse  upon  deep  and 
interesting  themes ;  and  it  is  then,  above  all 
other  times,  that  the  mother  ought  to  bear 
upon  her  heart  a  sense  of  that  higher,  deeper, 
more  absorbing  happiness,  which  is  derived 
from  the  contemplation  of  a  Supreme  Being, 
in  connection  with  his  love  for  all  the  families 
of  earth,  his  care  of  the  helpless,  and  hi? 
merciful  designs  for  the  redemption  and  the 
eternal  salvation  of  all. 

Alas  !  how  often  is  the  idea  of  a  Supreme 
Being  brought  first  before  the  minds  of  chil- 
dren, when  they  are  under  chastisement  for 
having  done  wrong !  How  many  are  told 
then,  and  then  only,  that  there  is  an  All-seeing 
eye  upon  them,  detecting  their  falsehoods, 
and  discovering  their  secret  sins  !  while  those 
sweet  moments  of  familiar  intercourse,  when 
the  dew  of  affection  lies  fresh  upon  the  soul, 
and  hope  springs  forth  in  the  bright  sunshine 


60 


THE  MOTHERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


of  happiness — how  often  are  such  moments 
neglected,  or  occupied  only  with  mean  and 
trivial  things !  Yet  why,  when  we  are  so 
ready  in  the  management  of  children,  to  bring 
to  our  aid  the  terrors  of  a  God  of  justice — 
why  are  we  not  equally  ready  to  make  use 
of  the  attractiveness  of  a  God  of  love  ? 

I  am  aware  that  parents  whose  own  minds 
are  under  the  influence  of  religious  feeling, 
in  the  cojirse  of  their  religious  instruction, 
but  especially  when  they  explain  to  their 
children  the  scheme  of  man's  redemption 
through  the  Saviour's  sacrifice  of  himself, 
dwell  much  upon  the  kindness  and  the  mercy 
of  Him  who  so  loved  the  world  that  he  gave 
his  only-begotten  Son  to  save  sinners.  But 
children  generally  receive  many  impressions 
with  regard  to  the  Supreme  Bekig,long  before 
they  can  be  made  to  enter  into  this  view  of 
his  character ;  and  it  is  chiefly  as  relates  to 
their  earliest  impressions — to  those  just  views 
which  are  to  fill  and  occupy  the  mind  to  the 
exclusion  of  all  others,  that  I  would  urge 
upon  mothers  the  importance  of  directing 
their  attention  to  this  subject 

I  am  convinced  that  nothing  need  be  lost 
— nay,  rather  that  much  may  be  gained,  by 
associating  feelings  of  happiness  with  the  first 
impressions  which  a  child  receives  of  a  su- 
preme and  superintending  Power.  I  am  con- 
vinced of  this,  because  there  is  no  faculty  of 
the  soul  capable  of  producing  enjoyment  by 
its  exercise  upon  the  things  of  time,  which  is 
not  also  capable  of  enhancing  that  enjoy- 
ment a  thousand-fold,  by  its  exercise  upon 
the  things  of  eternity.  When  we  speak  of 
affection,  it  is  something  certainly  to  feel 
bound  to  those  we  love,  even  for  the  brief 
term  of  our  existence  upon  earth  ;  but  it  is 
nothing  in  comparison  with  that  bond  of  un- 
broken and  unending  union  which  will  hold 
together  the  one  great  family  of  the  redeemed 
in  heaven.  When  we  speak  of  admiration, 
it  is  something  to  behold  the  shadowing  forth 
of  beauty  upon  earth,  to  feel  the  swelling  of 
the  heart  in  its  comprehension  of  the  sub- 
lime, or  its  repose  in  the  deep  sense  of  the 
harmony  of  nature  ;  but  of  what  value 
would  be  all  this  "  enlargement  of  exist- 


ence," if  here  it  was  to  end  ?  if  the  barrier 
of  the  grave  was  to  put  a  stop  to  the  spirit 
in  its  upward  flight,  and  if  death  was  to  hide 
the  beautiful  forever  ?  No  ;  we  have  learn- 
ed a  happier  lesson  than  this ;  for  we  know, 
and  we  ought  to  feel,  that  as  the  exercise  of 
love  and  admiration  afford  us  the  highest  en- 
joyment here,  they  are,  above  all  other  facul- 
ties, those  which,  if  rightly  exercised,  are  ca- 
pable of  adding  to  our  felicity  when  the  shad- 
ows of  time  shall  be  lost  in  the  light  of  eter- 
nity. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

MORAL  COURAGE  AND  WORLDLT-MINDEDXESS. 

ONE  great  defect  in  the  minor  morals  of 
society  in  the  present  day,  appears  to  me  to 
be  a  want  of  moral  courage  ;  and  as  this  is 
chiefly  felt  under  the  encroachments  of 
worldly-mindedness,  I  propose  to  class  the 
two  subjects  together,  anomalous  as  they 
may  at  first  sight  appear,  in  one  chapter. 

A  want  of  moralcourage  is  most  frequent- 
ly recognized  in  a  fear  of  acting  in,  or  even  of 
advocating,  a  good  cause,  where  blame  would 
attach  to  the  individual  who  should  venture 
to  do  so.  The  different  parties  in  religion, 
politics,  and  almost  every  thing  else,  which 
separate  individuals,  and  oppose  each  other, 
in  the  present  times,  operate  as  a  constant 
check  upon  the  exercise  of  moral  courage, 
because  we  can  with  difficulty  act  or  speak 
without  offending  one  set  of  prejudices  or 
another. 

We  must  not,  however,  call  that  courage 
which  is  simply  an  absence  of  fear,  owing  to 
an  absence  of  knowledge.  We  sometimes 
find  a  thoughtless  and  inexperienced  rider 
willing  to  mount  the  most  dangerous  horse, 
and  young  travellers,  rushing  headlong  into 
peril,  without  being  aware  of  the  risk  to 
which  they  are  exposed.  But  this  arises 
out  of  a  very  different  exercise  of  the  men- 
tal faculties  from  what  is  required — first,  to 
see  the  danger,  then  to  calculate  the  proba- 


MORAL  COURAGE  AND  WORLDLY-MINDEDNESS. 


61 


bility  of  escape,  and  after  having  decided 
that  the  motive  is  sufficient  to  justify  the 
risk,  to  face  the  peril,  whatever  it  may  be. 
Such  is  the  character  of  true  courage,  though 
it  frequently  operates  habitually,  where  there 
is  little  time  for  making  calculations  of  this 
nature. 

This  particular  exercise  of  courage,  how- 
ever, relates  chiefly  to  personal  danger,  and 
even  as  such  is  well  worthy  the  attention  of 
mothers  in  the  training  of  their  children ;  but 
that  to  which  I  would  more  especially  call 
their  attention,  relates  more  to  the  dread  of 
blame,  the  annoyance  of  opposition,  or  the 
apprehension  of  suffering  in  our  worldly  in- 
terests. And  here,  as  well  as  in  the  former 
case,  we  must  endeavor  to  arrive  at  clear 
views  of  the  subject  in  all  its  bearings.  We 
must  not  always  take  that  for  moral  courage, 
which  induces  some  persons  to  speak  direct- 
ly to  a  point  considered  by  others  of  more 
delicacy  as  unapproachable ;  because  this  is 
too  often  done  simply  from  an  absence  of  feel- 
ing, and  thus  too  often  obtains  a  degree  of 
credit  of  which  it  is  wholly  unworthy,  as  be- 
ing the  result  of  candor  and  a  love  of  truth. 

Neither  must  we  call  that  moral  courage 
which  leads  vulgar-minded  and  prejudiced 
persons  to  speak  in  a  summary  way  of  liking 
or  disliking  certain  people  and  things,  without 
any  sufficient  reason  ;  though  this  mode  of 
speaking  is  apt  to  gain  very  much  upon  chil- 
dren, whose  passions,  affections,  and  sympa- 
thies, are  more  easily  awakened  than  their 
reasoning  powers.  Fond  as  they  are,  then, 
of  pronouncing  that  decisive  sentence — "  I 
like,"  or,  "I  dislike,"  they  ought  to  be  encour- 
aged to  suspend  the  one,  but  more  especially 
the  other,  until  they  have  some  idea  what  are 
the  grounds  upon  which  they  pass  such  de- 
cided judgment. 

A  want  of  moral  courage  lies  at  the  root 
of  almost  all  the  falsehoods  which  are  told  in 
early  youth.  There  is  in  later  life  sometimes 
a  love  of  falsehood  for  its  own  sake,  which 
belongs  to  a  degree  of  depravity  not  proper- 
ly taken  into  account  in  these  pages.  And 
there  is  also,  occasionally,  found  a  strange 
propensity  to  tell  voluntary  and  aimless  un- 


truths, a  case  which  so  nearly  borders  upon 
insanity,  as  to  be  almost  beyond  the  reach  of 
moral  principle.  With  such  a  natural  phe- 
nomenon, there  are  happily  few  directors  of 
youth  who  have  any  thing  to  do. 

The  mother's  great  duty  is  to  endeavor  so 
to  fortify  the  moral  character,  as  that  children 
shall  not  be  afraid  to  tell  the  truth — that  they 
shall  learn  to  love  truth  for  its  own  sake,  and 
to  hate  a  lie.  And  here  it  may  not  be  out  of 
place  to  observe,  that,  so  far  as  is  practicable, 
we  ought,  in  the  training  of  youth,  to  search 
out  and  make  use  of  all  those  faculties  and 
propensities  of  human  nature,  which  are  ca- 
pable of  being  turned  to  good  account.  It 
has  been  said  by  a  popular  writer  of  the 
present  day,  that  "he  who  cannot  hate,  can- 
not love ;"  and  without  altogether  coinciding 
with  this  extreme  view  of  the  case,  we  must 
allow  that  those  persons  who  are  most  cor- 
dial in  their  affections,  are  generally  the 
warmest  in  their  feelings  of  indignation  and 
abhorrence,  where  they  believe  they  see  just 
cause  for  such  feelings.  What  then  is  to  be 
done  with  this  propensity  to  hate,  or  to  ab- 
hor 1  Is  it  possible  that  so  powerful  an  im- 
pulse should  have  been  given  for  the  sole 
purpose  of  being  subdued,  or  rendered  utterly 
extinct]  That  it  should  so  often  be  abused, 
and  directed  to  the  worst  purposes,  by  aim- 
ing at  individual  character,  and  opposing 
itself  to  the  kindly  charities  of  life,  is  no  proof 
of  its  being  incapable  of  good ;  because  there 
is  no  propensity  of  our  nature,  not  even  that 
of  loving,  which  may  not  be  converted  into  a 
means  of  producing  misery  rather  than  hap- 
piness— evil  rather  than  good. 

Let  us  think  well  on  this  subject,  then,  and 
try  if  we  cannot  find  some  wholesome  and 
beneficial  exercise  for  the  impetuous  warmth 
of  those  feelings,  which  expend  themselves 
in  hating  what  is  abhorrent  to  their  nature, 
as  well  as  in  loving  what  is  in  harmony  with 
it.  Let  us  ask  whether  there  may  not  be  a 
righteous  indignation — a  contempt  of  what 
is  mean — a  hatred  of  what  is  bad,  which 
may  be  lawfully  indulged?  I  confess  that  to 
me  it  appears  that  there  is — that  without 
such  feelings,  little  would  be  done  in  the 


62 


THE  MOTHERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


world  for  the  correction  of  abuse,  or  the  res- 
cue of  the  oppressed ;  and  I  believe  if  we 
would  examine  deeply  the  motives  of  some 
of  those  noble  and  magnanimous  efforts  by 
which  the  helpless  have  been  torn  from  the 
grasp  of  cruelty,  the  weak  protected  from  the 
aggressions  of  the  strong,  the  slave  set  free 
from  bondage,  and  the  doors  of  the  dungeon 
thrown  open,  we  should  find  that  the  active 
impulse  most  immediately  in  operation,  was 
a  well-directed  hatred  of  injustice,  oppression, 
and  cruelty  of  every  kind. 

Let  us  begin,  then,  by  endeavoring  to  make 
use  of  this  impulse,  by  directing  it  against 
whatever  is  unkind,  unfair,  or  untrue.  Let, 
us,  in  plain  words,  teach  children  to  hate 
falsehood ;  and  to  hate  it  not  only  when 
spoken,  but  also  when  acted.  It  is  a  lament- 
able fact,  that  many  a  little  child  brought  up 
under  parental  care,  with  a  cordial  hatred  of 
falsehood,  and  as  cordial  a  love  of  truth,  sent 
early  to  school  to  be  tried  by  new  tests,  and 
subjected  to  new  temptations,  is  there,  for 
want  of  moral  courage,  literally  startled  into 
falsehood,  though  loathing  and  hating  it  all 
the  time.  The  loud  authoritative  demand 
made  in  the  midst  of  numbers — "  Who  has 
done  this?"  or,  "What  naughty  boy  or  girl 
has  done  that]"  has  not  unfrequently  the 
effect  of  paralyzing  the  moral  feelings  for  the 
instant,  so  that  terror  gains  the  ascendancy, 
and  the  poor  little  culprit  endeavors  to  con- 
ceal its  transgression  by  a  lie,  and  perhaps  by  a 
second  or  a  third  in  order  to  conceal  the  first 

Nor  is  it  at  school  alone  that  occasions 
occur  in  which  the  veracity  of  youth  is  sorely 
tried — indeed  more  tried  than  it  ever  can  be 
in  after  life ;  because  when  we  have  once 
attained  the  independence  of  maturer  years, 
it  is  not  possible,  under  ordinary  circumstan- 
ces, that  any  one  should  have  it  in  their 
power  to  place  us  in  a  situation  so  fraught 
with  terror  and  distress.  In  mercy,  as  well 
as  in  justice,  to  children,  then,  we  ought  to 
endeavor  to  fortify  them  by  moral  courage 
against  such  trials,  in  order  that  when  they 
do  occur,  the  dread  of  punishment  may  be 
lost  sight  of,  in  a  noble  ambition  to  dare  to 
speak  the  truth. 


I  am  the  more  earnest  on  the  subject  of 
moral  courage,  because  I  believe  too  much  is 
done,  and  that  often  by  excellent  persons,  to 
humble,  crush,  and  extinguish  natural  feel- 
ing altogether.  Personal  humility,  we  cer- 
tainly cannot  err  in  promoting  to  almost  any 
extent ;  but  there  are  some  noble  aspirations 
belonging  to  our  nature,  which  ought,  by  all 
means,  to  be  encouraged ;  and  first  among 
these,  I  would  place  an  ambition  directed  to 
the  sole  object  of  doing  right  in  the  sight  of 
God  and  man,  under  the  apprehension  of  no 
other  danger  than  that  of  offending  against 
the  Divine  law  by  doing  wrong. 

Without  any  reference  to  a  future  state,  or 
to  the  will  of  a  Supreme  Being,  I  am  not 
aware  by  what  means  moral  courage  could 
be  inculcated,  or  blended  with  the  education 
of  a  child  ;  but  by  the  help  of  this  reference, 
a  pious  mother  has  always  in  her  power  the 
means  of  directing  the  attention  of  her  child 
from  a  lesser  to  a  greater  good — from  the 
mere  chance  of  escaping  chastisement,  to  the 
hope  of  doing  what  is  most  pleasing  in  the 
sight  of  God.. 

Moral  courage  consists  chiefly  in  daring  to 
choose,  at  the  moment  of  trial,  a  great  in  pre- 
ference to  a  little  good ;  even  though  the 
former  should  be  remote,  and  the  latter  im- 
mediately at  hand.  It  consists  in  disregard- 
ing the  transient  results  which  must  neces- 
sarily ensue,  for  the  sake  of  more  widely 
extended  and  important  consequences.  All 
this,  however,  is  but  seldom  taken  into  ac- 
count at  the  moment  of  action ;  and  therefore 
it  is  the  more  necessary  that  mothers  should 
render  the  exercise  of  moral  courage  on  the 
part  of  their  children  familiar,  and  habitual. 
And  there  is  one  fact  connected  with  this 
subject,  which  makes  it  almost  an  act  of 
mercy  to  do  so — it  is,  that  the  most  delicately 
sensitive  characters,  those  who  shrink  from 
the  bare  apprehension  of  giving  offence,  or 
incurring  blame — to  whom  a  harsh  word  or 
an  angry  look  from  those  whom  they  love 
and  esteem,  is  almost  like  a  sentence  of 
death — that  such  characters,  though  their 
love  of  truth  may  be  as  great,  or  perhaps 
greater,  than  that  of  bolder,  harder,  and  less 


MORAL  COURAGE  AND  WORLDLY-MINDEDNESS. 


63 


sensitive  natures,  are  far  more  in  danger  of 
being  betrayed  into  falsehood  from  the  im- 
pulse of  the  moment.  Thus,  among  a  num- 
ber of  children,  governed  only  by  the  general 
laws  of  school-discipline,  those  bold  unfeeling 
characters  who  have  little  regard  for  the 
opinion  of  others,  and  who  are  under  no 
temptation  to  conceal  their  faults  from  a 
dread  of  incurring  blame,  frequently  obtain 
I  all  the  credit  of  being  lovers  of  truth ;  while 
the  characters  above  described  may  in  reality 
love  truth  as  well,  or  better,  yet  having  been 
surprised  into  falsehood,  they  suffer  the  two- 
fold punishment  of  being  self-condemned,  and 
at  the  same  time  charged,  perhaps  publicly, 
and  opprobriously,  with  being  makers  and 
lovers  of  a  lie. 

There  are  many  cases  in  which  the  exer- 
cise of  moral  courage  may  be  so  rewarded 
by  a  mother's  approbation,  as  to  make  an  in- 
delible impression  upon  the  mind  of  a  child ; 
and  such  opportunities  should  never  be  lost 
sight  of,  because  it  is  chiefly  by  indirect 
means  that  the  character  can  be  strengthened 
to  resist  the  momentary  temptations  of  ap- 
parent self-interest 

We  will  suppose  a  case  in  which  a  charge 
of  delinquency  is  brought  against  one  mem- 
ber of  a  family,  who  is,  in  this  instance,  re- 
ally innocent,  but  whose  general  conduct  is 
such  as  to  warrant  unfavorable  suspicion. 
Father,  mother,  brothers,  and  sisters,  are  all 
agreed  that  he  must  be  the  guilty  person, 
with  but  one  exception,  and  that  a  little  sis- 
ter, who  knows  that  by  taking  his  part  she 
will  bring  upon  herself  the  suspicion  of  being 
an  accomplice  in  his  act  The  little  girl 
knows  this,  and  feels  it ;  above  all,  she  feels 
that  to  incur  the  blame  of  her  parents  is  a 
cruel  alternative,  yet  she  still  speaks  out,  and 
defends  her  brother,  because  she  believes  that 
in  this  instance  he  is  innocent  Her  noble 
defence  meets  with  nothing  but  reproof.  She 
is  put  down,  censured,  and,  more  than  all, 
suspected  ;  but  still  she  maintains  the  cause 
of  her  brother.  A  few  days  perhaps  develop 
the  real  truth.  The  boy  is  innocent,  and  his 
sister  was  all  the  while  right  Is  the  mother 
then  to  pass  over,  unnoticed,  so  noble  and 


persevering  an  effort  on  the  part  of  her 
child  1  Certainly  not  Although  herself  in 
the  wrong,  and  under  the  necessity  of  con- 
fessing before  her  children  that  she  has  been 
so ;  yet  a  generous  and  noble-minded  mother 
will  see  in  an  instant  what  is  the  course  of 
conduct  she  ought  to  pursue,  and  she  will 
rejoice  in  such  an  opportunity  of  expressing 
her  warmest  approval. 

Although  the  telling  of  direct  falsehoods 
from  a  want  of  courage  to  speak  the  truth,  is 
the  first  and  most  obvious  exemplification  of 
what  is  meant  by  an  absence  of  moral  cour- 
age, there  exists  throughout  all  those  varied 
intricacies  which  belong  to  the  structure  of 
society,  a  constant  occurrence  of  occasions, 
in  which  moral  courage  may  be  called  into 
action  for  the  support  of  integrity  against  the 
allurements  of  artifice,  and  the  temptations 
of  self-interest  In  almost  all  those  trials 
which  beset  mankind  in  the  respectable 
walks  of  life,  it  is  not  from  actual  propensi- 
ties to  vice  that  they  fail  to  maintain  their 
ground  ;  but  from  a  little,  and  perhaps  an 
unconscious  leaning  to  self-interest,  a  little 
desire  to  keep  well  with  the  world  or  with  a 
certain  party ;  and  all  that  endless  train  of 
little  motives  which  mix  themselves  in  with 
almost  every  thing  we  say  and  do. 

Now,  it  is  chiefly  against  these  that  I 
would  bring  into  operation  the  strong  power 
of  moral  courage,  not  to  uproot  or  destroy 
such  motives  one  by  one ;  that  would  in- 
deed be  to  dissever  the  hydra  heads  of  an 
unconquerable  enemy.  It  would  in  fact  be 
to  destroy  the  whole  fabric  of  human  nature. 
Instead,  therefore,  of  attempting  to  uproot 
these  plants  of  evil  growth,  I  would  begin  in 
the  early  training  of  children  to  lay  the 
strong  foundation  of  a  solid  character,  by 
making  moral  courage  one  of  the  first  ele- 
ments of  its  being.  I  would  begin  with  a 
high  standaid,  by  aiming  at  what  is  noble, 
great,  and  good ;  and  leaving  the  littlenesses 
of  artificial  life  to  vanish  into  nothing ;  as 
they  necessarily  would,  by  the  mind  being 
stored  with  materials  of  a  weightier  and 
more  sterling  nature. 

But  how  is  this  great  and  important  work 


64 


THE  MOTHERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


to  be  accomplished  1  First,  I  should  say,  by 
impressing  upon  the  minds  of  children  a  just 
estimate  of  all  moral  qualities.  It  may  occa- 
sion greater  inconvenience  to  the  mother  at 
the  moment,  that  her  child  should  fear  a  new 
dress,  than  that  it  should  tell  a  falsehood ; 
but  if,  from  any  personal  feeling,  she  allows 
her  disapprobation  to  be  expressed  as  strong- 
ly in  one  case,  as  in  the  other ;  if  she  evinces 
as  much  dissatisfaction  at  the  fall  of  a  china 
cup,  as  at  an  act  of  meanness  or  deception 
practised  by  one  child  towards  another ;  or 

|  if  her  delight  is  as  manifest  on  the  arrival  of 
a  new  article  of  furniture,  as  on  some  evi- 

;  dence  in  her  family  that  wrong  feeling  has 
been  overcome,  or  noble  and  generous  senti- 
ments called  into  exercise,  she  will  do  incal- 
culable mischief,  by  destroying  what  ought  to 
be  a  clear  distinction  betwixt  the  degrees  of 
moral  feeling  comprehended  in  these  differ- 
ent cases. 

It  is  the  same  throughout  the  whole  of 
that  discipline  to  which  youth  is  subjected. 
We  must  keep  the  balance  true,  not  only  as 
regards  actions,  but  motives,  so  far  as  they 
can  be  ascertained ;  and  never  from  personal 
feeling,  or  momentary  impulse,  allow  undue 
weight  to  be  thrown  into  either  scale.  Above 
all,  we  must  maintain  a  constant  reference 
to  what  is  approved  by  God,  rather  than  by 
man — to  what  is  consistent  with  Christian 
profession,  rather  than  to  what  may  be  ex- 
pedient, creditable,  or  consistent  with  the 
usages  of  the  world.  We  ought  to  teach 
children,  that  having  done  simply  what  was 
right,  there  is  nothing,  and  there  can  be 
nothing,  to  fear;  and  we  should  teach  this 
on  the  broad  foundation,  that  the  habits  and 
customs  of  ten  thousand  worlds  cannot  alter 
one  tittle  of  the  Divine  law,  or  make  that 
good  which  is  really  evil. 

Any  one  who  has  paid  much  attention  to 
the  state  of  society  in  the  present  day,  will,  I 
think,  agree  with  me,  that  these  are  times  in 
which  mothers  are  especially  called  upon  to 
teach  their  children,  that  they  are  acting  not 
merely  with  a  party  for  the  support  of  a  partic- 
ular set  of  opinions,  and  in  opposition  to  all 
who  hold  opinions  differing  in  the  slightest  de- 


gree ;  but  as  citizens  of  a  great  world,  subject 
with  all  the  families  of  earth  to  the  same  su- 
preme Head,  lovers  of  truth,  with  the  Bible 
for  their  guide,  and  aspirants  to  an  immortal- 
ity, in  which  the  language  of  universal  love 
will  exclude  all  reference  to  sect  or  party. 

If,  in  our  after  intercourse  with  society,  we 
must  unavoidably  attach  ourselves  to  one  par- 
ty or  another,  in  almost  every  thing  we  do ; 
and  if  in  such  association  it  is  almost  impos- 
sible to  keep  our  feelings  unwarped  by  preju- 
dice, let  us  at  least  endeavor  to  impress  strong 
characters  of  truth  upon  the  open  and  unbi- 
ased mind  of  youth,  so  that  having  pre-occu- 
pied  the  sphere  of  thought  and  feeling,  by 
those  clear  facts  of  pre-eminent  importance, 
respecting  which  mankind  are  not  able  to 
disagree,  there  may  be  less  room  left  for 
points  of  minor  moment,  and  especially  for 
those  little  causes  of  dispute  which  call  forth 
so  much  of  the  rancor  and  bitterness  of  party 
spirit 

It  seems  to  me  that  in  these  important 
matters,  the  tendency  of  the  times  to  obvious 
and  immediate  results,  operates  in  an  espe- 
cial manner.  It  is  not  now  the  man  who 
serves  his  Maker  most  faithfully,  who  is  most 
looked  up  to  by  his  fellow-Christians ;  but 
the  man  who  comes  forward,  and  gives  large- 
ly, who  makes  speeches,  or  writes  pamphlets, 
for  the  support  of  some  particular  set  of  opin- 
ions. All  these  are  results — they  are  what 
can  be  seen  and  heard  of  men — they  strike 
the  attention,  rouse  into  action,  and  give  peo- 
ple something  to  do.  All  this  kind  of  excite- 
ment, and  this  advocacy  of  certain  parties  and 
opinions,  is  particularly  agreeable  to  the 
young;  and  could  it  be  conducted  without 
prejudice  or  animosity,  might  certainly  be  ad- 
vantageous in  calling  their  energies  into  ex- 
ercise. But,  alas  !  we  forget,  in  those  stirring 
moments,  when  the  young  spirit  is  fired  by  a 
high  impulse  to  be  doing  something  in  a  great 
and  good  cause — we  forget  the  contempt 
which  is  at  the  same  time  inspired  for  those 
who  are  inactive,  the  pride  which  swells  the 
bosom  of  the  young  aspirant  to  be  foremost 
in  the  field ;  and,  worse  than  all,  the  bitter- 
ness and  the  rancor  which  are  called  into 


MORAL  COURAGE  AND  WORLDLY-MINDEDNESS. 


exercise  against  those  who  oppose  themselves 
to  his  career,  or  who  presume  even  to  call  in 
j  question  either  its  wisdom  or  its  expediency. 
I  have  sometimes  imagined  a  visitant  from 
another  world  coming  down  to  this,  fully  ac- 
quainted with  the  principles  of  the  gospel  up- 
on  which  our  religious  faith  is  built,  and  know- 
ing also  that  we  are  professed  followers  of 
that  Saviour  whose  test  of  discipleship  was, 
that  we  should  love  one  another,  and  who  be- 
queathed his  peace  as  the  greatest  blessing  he 
could  bestow  upon  those  who  should  keep 
his  commandments.  I  have  imagined  such 
a  being  reading  our  public  journals,  but  espe- 
cially some  ol  our  professedly  religious  ones, 
and  I  have  thought  that  the  first  inquiry  he 
would  make,  would  be,  whether  he  had  not 
arrived  at  the  wrong  planet?  whether,  in  fact, 
he  had  not  alighted  upon  fiery  Mars,  rather 
than  descended  into  the  bosom  of  a  Christian 
community  1 

I  am  induced  to  speak  of  these  strange 
anomalies  in  public  as  well  as  private  feeling, 
not  from  any  wish  presumptuously  to  inter- 
fere with  a  department  of  human  affairs 
which  is  far  beyond  the  purpose  of  my  pres- 
ent work  ;  but  I  speak  of  these  things,  be- 
cause they  constitute  too  much  the  atmo- 
sphere in  which  we  live,  and  it  is  my  wish — 
my  entreaty — my  prayer,  that  children  should 
be  preserved  from  breathing  this  atmosphere 
sooner  than  is  absolutely  necessary.  By  be- 
ing too  early  plunged  into  all  the  meanness, 
the  littleness,  and,  may  we  not  say,  the  sin- 
fulness  of  party  feeling,  by  seeing  their  pa- 
rents and  friends  worked  up  to  extravagance 
and  animosity,  on  all  those  public  occasions 
which  offer  exalted  places  to  the  advocates 
of  their  particular  party,  they  lose  sight  of 
the  value  of  those  principles  which  all  good 
men  advocate,  and  of  the  supremacy  of  that 
party  to  which  all  good  men  belong. 

Men  are  in  general  too  deeply  engaged 
themselves  in  affairs  of  public  interest,  to  al- 
low of  their  exercising  any  very  beneficial 
influence  over  their  children  in  this  respect ; 
but  surely  women  may  so  far  abstract  their 
thoughts  from  the  mere  trappings  and  pa- 
geantry of  human  life,  as  to  lead  the  minds 


of  their  children  along  with  them,  in  looking 
to  its  realities,  and  especially  to  its  oneness 
of  interest  in  the  great  end  of  existence. 
Much  may  be  done  in  this  way  by  a  judi- 
cious mother,  where  subjects  of  sectarian  in- 
terest are  under  discussion,  to  ward  off  the 
attention  of  the  young  from  the  extreme  im- 
portance attached  by  persons  generally  to 
different  forms  of  government,  or  modes  of 
worship.  Much  may  also  be  done  by  a 
mother  to  impress  upon  the  minds  of  her 
children,  that  the  religious  sect  to  which  their 
parents  belong,  is  preferred  by  them,  not  be- 
cause it  is  perfect  in  itself,  or  more  owned  by 
God  as  regards  the  tokens  of  his  especial 
favor,  but  because  the  views  and  principles 
upon  which  it  is  founded,  are  most  in  accord- 
ance with  their  own,  and  consequently  afford 
them  more  support  and  satisfaction  than  any 
other.  Even  where,  as  is  frequently  the 
case,  they  do  devoutly  believe  that  the 
church  to  which  they  belong  is  the  only  true 
church,  parents  ought  in  justice  to  make 
their  children  acquainted  with  the  fact,  that 
the  members  of  other  churches  as  devoutly 
believe  the  same  of  theirs. 

I  know  not  whether  I  have  made  my 
meaning  clear,  in  describing  what  I  believe 
to  be  the  only  true  foundation  of  a  strong 
moral  character;  but,  in  order  to  render 
more  obvious  the  value  of  moral  courage  in 
our  intercourse  with  society,  I  will  notice  a 
few  instances  in  which  it  is  brought  into  op- 
position to  worldly-mindedness,  and  I  fear 
they  must  be  those  in  which  it  seldom  gains 
the  mastery. 

I  have  already  pointed  out  the  manner  in 
which  an  absence  of  moral  courage  operates 
against  the  love  of  truth  ;  and  it  is  much  in 
the  same  manner  that  prejudices  are  gene- 
rally imbibed — because  people  dare  not  think 
for  themselves — because  they  dread  the  re- 
sponsibility of  having  formed  their  own  opin- 
ions, and  feel  a  kind  of  safety  in  thinking 
as  somo  person,  or  some  party,  thinks.  If 
they  were  to  form  their  own  opinions,  they 
would  have  to  defend  them  when  called  in 
question,  or  to  bear  a  certain  degree  of  odium, 
when  they  were  contemned ;  but  if  they 


66 


THE  MOTHERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


adopt  the  opinions  of  certain  individuals, 
more  especially  if  they  think  as  all  the  world 
thinks,  there  is  an  end  at  once  of  argument — 
they  enjoy  the  satisfaction  of  feeling  them- 
selves victorious,  without  being  required  to 
prove  that  they  are  so.  Even  when  con- 
vinced of  having  been  wrong,  persons  who 
are  deficient  in  moral  courage  dare  not  avow 
their  change  of  opinion  ;  but  go  on  persuad- 
ing themselves  against  conviction,  or  else  in- 
vent some  subterfuge  by  which  they  can  es- 
cape, without  having  the  candor  to  make  an 
honorable  recantation. 

There  is  an  excellent  maxim  which  all 
mothers  ought  to  impress  upon  the  minds  of 
their  children,  that  "  to  confess  that  you  have 
been  in  the  wrong,  is  only  saying  in  other 
words,  that  you  are  wiser  to-day  than  you 
were  yesterday;"  and  where  the  love  of 
truth,  simply  for  its  own  sake,  is  the  prevail- 
ing aim  of  a  family,  I  cannot  think  that  such 
candid  confessions  need  be  attended  with 
any  difficulty.  To  have  discovered  a  mis- 
take, is  no  trifling  step  in  the  path  of  wis- 
dom ;  and  when  it  happens  to  be  our  own, 
we  have  all  the  more  need  to  rejoic9  at  hav- 
ing found  it  out 

In  such  cases  as  these,  it  is  chiefly,  if  not 
entirely,  by  moral  courage,  that  we  are  helped 
over  the  little  obstacles  presented  by  vanity, 
obstinacy,  and  self-esteem.  We  feel  the 
greater  good  of  seeing  and  acknowledging 
the  truth ;  but  without  moral  courage,  we 
shrink  from  being  laughed  at,  or  triumphed 
over,  for  not  having  seen  it  before.  Yet 
what  is  all  this  paltriness  of  personal  feeling, 
in  comparison  with  the  beauty  and  the  ma- 
jesty of  truth  ?  Children,  then,  should  learn 
not  only  to  love  truth  for  its  own  sake,  but 
to  dare  to  uphold  it,  even  at  the  risk  of  a 
banter  or  a  sneer. 

But  above  all  other  enemies  to  moral  cour- 
age, is  the  world — the  world  in  which  we 
live — that  grand  master  of  forms  and  cere- 
monies, in  whose  service  it  is  our  perpetual 
aim  to  live  as  other  people  live,  and  to  do  as 
other  people  do,  in  order  that  we  may  not 
lose  caste,  and  go  down  in  the  favor  of  the 
world.  It  is  sometimes  true  that  we  can  ill 


afford  such  a  style  of  living — it  may  be  true 
that  we  are  in  debt — and  what  is  more  won- 
derful, it  may  also  be  true  that  we  do  not 
ourselves  really  value  the  things  we  are 
struggling  to  possess ;  but  the  world  would 
forget  us — we  should  not  be  visited,  or,  if  we 
were,  it  would  only  be  to  be  despised — did 
we  dare  to  be  singular,  or  regardless  of  these 
things. 

"What  world,"  the  strange  visitant  of 
earth  might  ask — "  what  world  is  that  which 
occupies  a  place  of  paramount  importance  in 
almost  every  human  heart  *"  "  The  world 
in  which  we  live,"  some  candid  voice  might 
answer.  "  Nay,"  the  visitant  would  reply  ; 
"  that  can  never  be ;  for  have  we  not  the 
testimony  of  all  mankind,  from  the  prince 
down  to  the  lowest  peasant,  that  the  world 
is  hated,  despised,  regarded  as  a  bitter  enemy 
— at  once  an  ingrate,  and  a  tyrant?  And 
certain  it  is,  there  are  few  human  beings  who 
can  say  in  their  hearts,  that  they  love,  and 
honor,  though  they  are  but  too  willing  to 
obey,  the  world  to  whose  bondage  they  sub- 
mit While  reading  the  works  of  some  au- 
thors, one  would  think  indeed  that  the  world 
was  a  perfect  monster,  for  there  is  scarcely 
an  opprobrious  epithet,  or  an  abusive  charge, 
which  has  not  been  thrown  out  against  it  by 
one  or  another ;  while  none  have  come  for- 
ward to  defend  it,  or  to  prove  that  it  is  really 
worthy  of  a  better  name. 

For  my  own  part,  I  have  always  found  it 
a  satisfactory  conclusion  when  judging  of  the 
world,  that  whatever  its  faults  or  its  abuses 
may  be,  it  is  under  the  superintending  care 
of  One  who  has  the  power  to  overrule  its 
worst  elements  for  good,  and  who  knows, 
better  than  I  do,  what  really  is  good.  But 
when  we  make  to  ourselves  an  idol  of  the 
world,  when  we  bow  down  and  worship  it, 
when  we  sacrifice  our  best  feelings  at  its 
shrine,  and  make  its  laws  the  test  of  all  ex- 
cellence, then,  indeed,  it  is  time  to  cry  out 
against  the  world ;  because  then  it  is  evident, 
that  instead  of  regarding  it  as  the  theatre  in 
which  we  are  to  act  for  a  short  season  of 
trial,  the  garden  in  which  we  are  to  labor  in 
the  service  of  our  Heavenly  Master,  the  field 


MORAL  COURAGE  AND  WORLDLY-MINDEDNESS. 


07 


in  which  we  are  to  fight  as  good  soldiers  of 
Christ,  we  are  making  it  our  home — I  was 
about  to  add,  our  rest;  but  never  yet  was 
rest  the  portion  of  those  who  made  the  world 
their  home. 

An  extreme  regard  for  the  approval  of  the 
world,  and  an  excessive  absorption  in  the  in- 
terests of  this  life,  is  generally  called  worldly 
mindedness  ;  and  this  it  is  which  meets  us  in 
every  path,  besets  the  wise  as  well  as  the 
simple,  the  rich  as  well  as  the  poor,  and,  I 
had  almost  said,  the  good  as  well  as  the  evil. 
Should  I  have  been  altogether  wrong,  if  I 
had?  For  is  it  not  lurking  in  the  sanctuary, 
when  we  take  our  places  there  ;  waiting  for 
the  minister,  when  he  descends  from  his 
desk ;  busy  with  the  congregation,  as  they 
disperse  ?  Does  it  not  meet  us  at  our  homes 
on  the  sabbath-day,  close  the  door  of  the 
closet  which  should  be  entered  for  prayer, 
and  finally  send  us  to  sleep  with  bright  vis- 
ions of  the  anticipated  events  or  occupations 
of  the  coming  week  ]  Nor  on  the  sabbath 
alone,  but  on  every  other  day  and  night  of 
his  existence,  I  believe  that  a  spirit  of  world- 
ly-mindedness  is  that  with  which  the  Chris- 
tian has  to  contend  more  frequently  than  with 
any  other.  I  do  not  say  that  there  may  not 
be  at  times  strong  passions  and  dark  propen- 
sities in  his  nature,  against  which  he  has  to 
wage  a  more  desperate  and  determined  war- 
fare ;  but  the  peculiarity  of  worldly-minded- 
ness,  is  that  it  is  always  present,  and  always, 
under  the  fair  colors  of  respectability,  con- 
venience, interest,  or  expediency,  holding  up 
a  false  standard  of  excellence  for  us  to  aim 
at. 

I  do  not  presume  either  to  say,  that  moral 
courage  alone  will  conquer  this  enemy.  I 
think  I  have  sufficiently  explained  my  mean- 
ing, that  moral  courage,  founded  upon  reli- 
gious principle — for  indeed  I  cannot  well  im- 
agine any  other — that  such  is  the  armor  by 
which  young  people  ought  to  be  defended 
when  they  go  forth  into  society,  in  order  that 
they  may  not  be  induced  to  adopt  the  false 
standard  which  worldly-mindedness  will  ever 
be  presenting  to  their  view. 

In  the  exercise  of  our  affections,  and  in  all 


our  kindly  feelings,  worldly-mindedness  has 
the  power  to  contract  and  harden  the  heart 
to  a  lamentable  extent ;  not  that  we  begin  by 
preferring  the  claims  of  the  world  to  those  of 
kindness,  but  having  made  this  a  habit,  hav- 
ing made  the  favor  of  the  world  our  chief 
good,  we  cease,  in  time,  to  experience  those 
warm  fresh  springs  of  generous  impulse, 
which  might  so  often  gladden  and  beautify 
the  path  of  life. 

Let  us  imagine  the  case  of  a  respectable 
family  travelling  at  a  distance  from  their 
home  and  friends,  having  fallen  by  some  ac- 
cident into  circumstances  of  trial  and  dis- 
tress ;  one  of  their  party  being  dangerously 
ill,  they  are  detained  upon  the  road,  and  in  a 
strange  land  receive  the  kindness  of  a  family 
a  little  beneath  themselves  in  outward  cir- 
cumstances, or,  in  other  words,  a  little  poor- 
er, and  less  expensive  in  their  general  habits. 
These  things,  however,  are  little  thought  of 
by  the  family  in  trouble,  because  they  feel 
themselves  to  be,  for  the  time,  out  of  the 
world;  and  under  circumstances  of  trial  and 
distress,  they  escape  for  a  while  from  the 
thraldom  of  worldly-mindedness.  But  soon 
their  affairs  assume  a  more  favorable  aspect, 
and  they  return  to  their  own  residence,  where, 
without  riches,  they  make  rather  a  showy 
and  elegant  appearance,  and  in  short,  stand 
well  with  their  master,  the  world. 

Their  first  impulse  on  returning  home  is 
to  remember  the  friends  in  the  strange  land, 
whose  kindness  and  hospitality  it  would  in- 
deed be  impossible  to  forget.  They  are  a 
grateful  family  too,  and  one  and  all  have 
been  busy  on  their  journey  planning  what 
each  could  do  in  the  way  of  sending  some 
little  memorial  of  their  gratitude.  Arrived 
at  home,  however,  they  find  from  the  state 
of  affairs,  and  from  the  extraordinary  expen- 
ses incident  to  their  late  journey,  that  they 
are  likely  to  be  rather  straitened  for  means 
during  the  next  few  weeks,  and  therefore 
the  memorials  must  wait.  Indeed  all  are 
agreed,  that  it  will  look  better  to  send  them 
after  a  little  time  has  elapsed.  It  is  not,  how- 
ever, the  journey  alone  which  has  brought 
them  to  this  conclusion,  but  a  season  of 


68 


THE  MOTHERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


gaiety  being  just  commenced  in  the  town 
where  they  live,  there  is  a  new  satin  dress 
to  be  bought  for  the  mother,  and  so  on, 
through  all  the  members  of  the  family,  whose 
age  entitles  them  to  the  supreme  privilege 
of  appearing  well  dressed  in  public. 

In  this  state  of  things,  Christmas  arrives, 
with  its  never-failing  demands  upon  the 
purses  of  householders  ;  but  still  the  family 
feel  grateful,  and  remember,  with  often-ex- 
pressed regret,  that  they  have  as  yet  done 
nothing  towards  acknowledgment  of  the  kind 
services  of  those  distant  friends.  Winter 
passes,  and  summer  comes  ;  but  the  family, 
living  for  the  world,  and  to  the  extent  of 
their  income,  have  literally  nothing  to  spare 
for  the  claims  of  gratitude ;  and  by  degrees 
the  whole  affair  is  forgotten,  or  rather  thrust 
out  of  mind  by  the  crowding  in  of  other  and 
more  immediate  objects  of  attention.  It  is 
not  forgotten,  because  the  family  are  still 
grateful,  but  it  has  become  rather  a  painful 
subject,  and  therefore  they  never  mention  it 

A  year  or  two  passes  in  this  manner,  when 
one  of  the  boys  returning  home  from  school, 
declares  he  has  seen  the  youngest  son  of  the 

C family,  and  that  they  have  all  come 

to  settle  in  the  very  town  where  the  obliged 
family  live.  Here  then  is  an  opportunity  at 
hand  of  showing  how  gratefully  their  kind- 
ness is  remembered.  No  doubt  they  are 
strangers  in  the  place.  No  doubt  they  want 
friends,  for  they  were  evidently  rather  strait- 
ened in  their  means.  No  doubt  they  want 
the  countenance  of  some  respectable  and 
influential  person,  for  the  father  was  even  at 
taat  time  looking  out  for  a  situation.  Here 
then  is  an  excellent  opportunity  for  showing 
what  gratitude  can  do.  Let  us  see  how  the 
world  permits  it  to  be  used. 

"Is  it  possible,"   exclaims  the    mother, 
"  they  can  have  come  to  live  in  this  place  1" 

"  I  am  sure  it  is  so,"  replies  the  boy,  "  for 
little  Harry  told  me  where  they  live." 

"  And  where  is  that !"  asks  the  mother. 

"You  shall  guess,"  replies  the  boy,  with 
an  arch  look,  as  if  he  had  an  extraordinary 
secret  to  disclose. 

"  Perhaps  in  Brunswick  Place  1" 


"  No  :  actually  1"  exclaims  the  boy,  "  at 
No.  1,  in  that  row  of  shabby  houses  at  the 
back  of  the  tallow-chandler's  !" 

The  mother  makes  no  remark,  but  the 
father  and  she  exchange  glances.  What 
they  say  in  private,  or  how  they,  calculate 
opposing  reasons  for  and  against  this  family 
being  called  upon,  the  reader  can  easily 
imagine.  Suffice  it,  that  after  a  few  days 
have  passed  over,  the  following  scene  takes 
place  in  the  grateful  family. 

"Mamma,"  says  one  of  the  daughters, 
"  what  do  you  think  cook  told  Caroline  ? — 
that  the  C — s  absolutely  live  without  a  ser- 
vant" 

"  Nonsense  !  my  dear,"  replies  the  mother, 
"you  should  not  listen  to  what  the  cook 
says." 

"  But  it  must  be  true,"  exclaims  the  boy 
who  spoke  before.  "  I  am  sure  it  must,  for 
yesterday,  as  I  was  going  to  school,  I  just 
looked  in  at  Mr.  Blanchard's  window,  to  see 
if  he  had  any  more  of  those  fine  French 
plums,  when  who  should  I  see  standing  at 
the  counter,  but  that  very  young  lady  with 
the  large  blue  eyes,  who  used  to  be  so  kind 
to  Harriet — I  mean,  who  brought  her  the 
nice  fruit,  for  they  were  all  kind.  So  I 
watched  what  she  was  doing,  and  I  saw  her 
take  some  groceries  into  a  little  basket  which 
she  held  on  her  arm,  and  then  some  butter  ; 
but  as  the  butter  would  not  go  into  her 
basket,  she  asked  for  another  paper,  and 
actually  took  it  in  her  hand,  in  this  manner. 
She  did,  indeed  !  mamma,  and  I  believe  some 
lard  too."  Upon  which  intelligence,  each  of 
the  younger  members  of  the  grateful  family 
makes  a  face ;  and  there  is  an  end  of  the 
whole  matter — the  C — s  are  not  to  be  called 
upon. 

Now,  it  does  not  at  all  follow,  because  this 
has  transpired  in  a  family,  that  the  members 
of  it  are  pleased  with  themselves — that  they 
feel  at  ease,  or  can  look  with  steadiness  and 
satisfaction  down  the  humble  street,  and  di- 
rectly at  the  door  which  has  no  servant  to 
open  it  No ;  I  maintain  that  they  may  still 
be  grateful,  but  being  servants  of  the  world, 
they  can  do  all  this,  and  feel  both  mean  and 


MORAL  COURAGE  AND  WORLDLY-MINDEDNESS. 


69 


miserable  while  they  do  it.  But  I  maintain 
also,  that  these  are  especially  cases  in  which 
moral  courage  would  preserve  us  from  such 
contemptible — such  culpable  servitude;  for 
what,  to  a  person  fortified  by  moral  courage, 
would  it  be,  to  incur  the  risk  of  being  called 
upon  by  a  lady  of  rank  at  the  very  time  when 
one  of  the  C —  family  was  present,  in  com- 
parison with  the  certainty  of  acting  meanly 
and  ungratefully  to  those  who  both  deserved 
and  needed  kindness? 

As  regards  benevolence  too,  as  well  as  grat- 
itude, it  is  easy  to  point  out  a  case  in  which 
worldly-mindedness  asserts  its  mastery  over 
the  actfons  of  a  good  man,  purely  from  his 
want  of  moral  courage.     We  will  imagine  a 
respectable  and  benevolent  individual  called 
upon  by  the  zealous  agent  of  some  institution 
for  the  public  good.     The  first  thing  asked 
for,   is    the   list    of   the  subscribers'  names. 
The  benevolent  man  looks  carefully  up  and 
down,  and  then  gives  his  money,  but  declines 
adding  his  name.     It   happens,  perhaps,  in 
this  instance,  as  in  many  others,  that  the  name 
of  a  wealthy  and  influential  person  would  be 
of  more  service  to  the  cause  than  any  small 
amount  of  pecuniary  aid ;  and  he  is  conse- 
quently urged  to  add  his  name  to  the  list,  but 
he  still  refuses.    He  is  asked  whether  he  does 
not  consider  such  an  institution  much  need- 
ed?   "Oh  yes." — Whether  he  does  not  be- 
lieve it  to  be  founded  on  right  principles,  and, 
so  far  as  it  has  been  tried,  well  conducted  ? 
and  so  on. — "  Yes,"  he  approves  of  it  alto- 
gether, and  expresses  his  approbation  in  the 
warmest  terms ;  but  still  he  will  not  pledge 
himself  so  publicly  as  to  give  his  name.     In 
the  course  of  a  few  days,  the  same  individu- 
al is  called  upon  again,  with  the  list  of  subscri- 
bers considerably  enlarged.     The  benevolent 
man  glances  his  eye  over  the  long  columns, 
and  this  time  he  discovers  the  signature  of  a 
titled  friend,  a  great  landed  proprietor  in  the 
neighborhood,  and  last,  but  not  least — a  min- 
ister of  religion.     It  is  enough — the  benevo- 
ent  man  has  now  sufficient  courage  to  write 
lis  name,  and  with  that  he  doubles  his  sub- 
scription. 

It  would  not  he  possible  within  moderate 


limits,  to  specify  the  various  instances  occur- 
ring perpetually  in  social  life,  where  moral 
courage  may  properly  be  opposed  to  worldly- 
mindedness  ;  but  we  must  not  forget  that  im- 
portant one  of  defending  the  absent  when  we 
hear  them  unjustly  blamed,  or  a  wrong  con- 
struction put  upon  their  actions.  To  defend 
a  public  character  who  has  a  strong  party  on 
his  side,  requires  no  great  amount  of  courage, 
even  among  his  enemies ;  but  to  defend  the 
defenceless,  and  obscure  individual,  a  poor 
relation,  or  an  humble  friend,  those  who  have 
nothing  distinguished  or  dignified  about  them, 
is  a  very  different  matter.  If  a  friend,  for 
instance,  has  done  a  glaringly  foolish  thing, 
written  or  taken  up  a  cause  which  the  world 
holds  in  derision ;  to  hear  that  friend  ridicu- 
led and  contemned,  nay,  literally  abused,  and 
say  nothing,  is  the  part  most  frequently  acted 
by  those  who  are  deficient  in  moral  courage  ; 
yet  as  a  proof  that  the  absent  friend  is  really 
in  secret  valued,  notwithstanding  the  adverse 
tide  of  popular  opinion,  no  sooner  is  a  voice 
lifted  up  in  his  defence,  than  they  are  delight- 
ed beyond  measure  ;  and  especially  if  it  be  an 
influential  voice,  they  place  themselves  imme- 
diately on  that  side  of  the  question,  and  de- 
clare their  opinions  to  have  been  favorable  all 
the  time. 

There  is  also  another  important  feature 
frequently  displayed  by  the  same  moral  weak- 
ness. It  is  where  families  or  friends  live  in 
the  habit  of  flattering  each  other,  and  never 
venture  to  speak  candidly  of  each  other's 
faults,  except  on  occasions  of  anger,  or  under 
the  influence  of  passion  ;  when,  all  apprehen- 
sion of  consequences  being  lost  sight  of,  there 
follows  an  outburst  of  injurious  accusations, 
the  more  deeply  wounding  to  the  accused,  be- 
cause they  convey  the  impression  of  having 
been  long  treasured  up,  and  even  harbored  in 
the  breast,  at  the  very  time  when  the  most 
familiar  and  affectionate  confidence  appeared 
to  prevail. 

The  amount  of  individual  and  social  hap- 
piness thus  destroyed  by  the  work  of  a  mo- 
ment, is  perhaps  greater  than  by  any  other 
means.  The  confidence  broken  never  again 
to  be  restored,  the  spirit  wounded  so  as  never 


70 


THE  MOTHERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


again  to  be  healed,  the  bond  of  affection  rent 
asunder  never  again  to  be  united — these  are 
among  the  trophies  of  that  cruel  warfare, 
by  which  a  reckless  and  ungoverned  temper 
may  scatter  ruin  over  the  loveliest  gardens  of 
domestic  happiness. 

It  is  of  the  utmost  importance  then,  mat 
children  should  be  taught  to  speak  the  truth 
to  each  other,  not  petulantly,  and  especially 
not  in  a  taunting  or  triumphant  manner  ;  but 
tenderly,  and  kindly — in  pity,  rather  than 
hate ;  and,  above  all,  with  humility,  as  es- 
teeming themselves  no  better  for  having  been 
able  to  point  out  another  person's  fault 

But  there  is  a  far  more  important  class  of 
instances  yet  to  be  noticed,  and  under  that 
class  what  a  dark  catalogue  is  registered !  I 
mean  instances  in  which  the  most  indissolu- 
ble of  all  earthly  unions  is  entered  into  from 
motives  of  worldly-mindedness.  That  in- 
stances of  this  kind  are  occurring  every  day, 
is  a  fact  too  generally  acknowledged  to  need 
any  additional  proof;  and  when  we  think 
that  worldly-mindedness  has  thus  the  power 
to  wrench,  as  it  were,  the  heart-strings  asun- 
der, or  to  consign  its  votaries  to  a  kind  of  liv- 
ing death,  as  it  must  before  it  can  separate 
those  who  love,  or  chain  together  those  who 
hate — when  we  think  that  moral  courage 
might  rescue  the  victims  of  this  cruel  tyran- 
ny, and  snatch  them  from  the  irremediable 
wretchedness  into  which  they  would  other- 
wise be  plunged,  surely  no  effort  can  be  too 
great,  no  labor  too  much,  to  bestow  upon 
that  improvement  in  the  state  of  public  feeling, 
which  is  so  much  needed  here. 

Time  was  when  parents  and  guardians 
were  the  parties  blamed  for  making  worldly 
aggrandizement  their  object  in  such  alliances, 
rather  than  the  happiness  of  the  parties  most 
immediately  concerned ;  and  the  romances 
of  the  last  century  abound  with  nothing  so 
much  as  those  cruel  impositions  of  authority 
by  which  the  "  course  of  true  love"  was  made 
subservient  to  the  love  of  gold.  But  though 
parents  and  guardians  may  still  be  accessory, 
they  ane  not  the  principal  agents  in  this  par- 
ticular kind  of  worldly  traffic.  Those  who 
speculate  in  this  market  now,  are  those  who 


suffer  most  when  the  bargain  is  a  losing  one. 
They  are  the  young  men  and  young  women 
who  dare  not  think  of  marriage  except  where 
there  is  worldly  benefit  to  be  obtained,  because 
they  dare  not  meet  society  without  being,  in 
all  outward  embellishments,  adorned  for  the 
occasion. 

It  cannot  be  any  other  kind  of  terror  which 
deters  from  choosing  where  affection  would 
direct  It  cannot  be  a  dread  of  personal  pri- 
vation. No ;  a  young  and  noble-hearted  man 
would  spurn  all  privation  in  comparison  with 
that  of  being  forever  separated  from  the 
woman  he  loved.  It  cannot  be  labor  that 
he  fears.  That  would  be  sweetened  by  affec- 
tion. It  is,  in  fact,  that  he  wants  the  moral 
courage  to  begin  the  world  with  an  establish- 
ment corresponding  with  humble  means ;  and 
even  if  he  in  his  own  person  was  bold  enough 
to  deviate  so  far  from  the  beaten  track  of 
custom,  parents,  friends,  and  relatives  would 
all  cry  out  against  him,  and  therefore  he  can- 
not— dare  not  marry  the  portionless  orphan 
girl,  who  has,  perhaps,  no  other  friend  or  pro- 
tector in  the  world  besides  himself.  Therefore 
— and  here  is  the  worst  feature  in  the  case — 
he  enters  into  a  heartless,  joyless  alliance 
with  one,  whose  money  purchases  for  him  an 
establishment,  and  a  place  in  society,  while 
the  world  exults  over  him,  as  having  made 
an  excellent  match. 

But  for  one  instance  of  this  kind  occur- 
ring among  men,  I  beliave  there  are  twenty 
among  women,  of  marriages  entered  into 
chiefly,  if  not  entirely,  from  the  dread  of  being 
old  maids.  I  do  not  mean  that  the  mere  title 
of  old  maid  constitutes  the  whole  of  the  evil 
so  much  dreaded ;  but  in  connection  with  a 
single  state,  there  are  often  consequences  to 
be  apprehended  by  women,  which  it  requires 
moral  courage  in  no  trifling  degree  to  meet 
calmly. 

Hundreds  upon  hundreds  of  families  re- 
spectably brought  up,  and  holding  a  high  place 
in  society,  from  living  to  the  extent  of  their 
means,  have  little  to  support  that  respecta- 
bility in  the  opinion  of  the  world,  when  the 
original  establishment  is  broken  up,  and  each 
member  is  thrown  upon  their  own  share.  It 


MORAL  COURAGE  AND  WORLDLY-MINDEDNESS 


71 


is  then  that  a  lone  woman  is  lonely  indeed. 
Perhaps  she  has  enough  to  support  her  in 
decent  lodgings,  but  she  has  been  accustomed 
to  invite  her  friends  to  a  hospitable  board,  to 
be  waited  upon  by  her  father's  servants,  and 
to  be  somebody  in  his  house ;  how  then  is 
she  to  settle  down  as  a  mere  spinster  in  lodg- 
ings ?— too  poor  to  give  a  party,  and  perhaps 
too  proud  to  visit  where  she  can  no  longer  be 
looked  upon  in  society  as  she  was  before  ? 
After  having  been  accustomed  to  a  large 
family,  and  a  comfortable  home,  it  requires 
more  moral  courage  than  most  people  are 
aware  of,  for  a  woman  to  live  alone  in  humble 
lodgings,  and  yet  feel  neither  dissatisfied  nor 
degraded. 

The  exercise  of  moral  courage,  however, 
would  help  them  over  all  this.  It  would  stir 
them  up  perhaps  to  some  useful  and  profit- 
able employment,  by  which  their  time  and 
talents  would  be  occupied,  their  melancholy 
thoughts  dispersed,  and  their  moral  dignity 
maintained.  It  would  send  them  forth  into 
society  again  wherever  they  were  admitted, 
feeling  themselves  denizens  of  a  great  world, 
as  free  to  think  and  act  as  the  monarch  on 
his  throne  ;  while,  disregarding  the  paltriness 
of  personal  feeling,  they  would  escape  many 
a  rankling  wound,  to  which  others  are  sub- 
jected, and  find  many  a  healthy  and  natural 
channel  through  which  to  pour  their  benevo- 
lence into  the  great  treasury  of  human  kind- 
ness. 

There  is  a  far  worse  aspect  of  the  case, 
however,  than  this,  and  that  is,  where  the 
daughters  of  a  family  are  left  wholly  unpro- 
vided for,  and  when  on  the  death  of  their 
parents,  they  are  obliged  to  go  out  into  the 
world  to  provide  for  themselves.  Why  this 
should  be  so  great  a  calamity  as  it  is,  belongs 
not  to  this  portion  of  my  work  to  examine  ; 
but  there  is  great  room  to  fear  that  this  par- 
ticular aspect  of  human  affairs,  is  the  means 
of  frightening  too  many  weak-minded  women 
into  unhappy  marriages. 

I  confess  I  am  no  advocate  for  mere  love- 
matches,  made  without  any  regard  to  worldly 
prudence ;  because  our  young  people,  and 
particularly  our  young  women,  must  be  very 


differently  educated  from  what  they  are,  be- 
fore such  a  course  of  action  could  be  any 
thing  but  rash  and  ruinous  in  the  extreme. 
Living  as  too  many  do  for  the  world,  the 
young  people  of  the  present  day  are  ill  cal- 
culated indeed  to  meet  such  consequences  as 
would  involve  them  in  a  loss  of  the  world's 
esteem.  Admiring  as  we  do,  and  regarding 
as  our  chief  good,  those  things  which  money 
alone  can  procure,  how  is  it  possible  that 
happiness  should  be  found  in  an  ill-furnished 
home,  even  though  love  might  for  a  while 
adorn  it  with  roses?  No;  society  must  be 
very  differently  constituted  from  what  it  :«, 
to  admit  of  the  heart  and  the  affections  hav- 
ing free  exercise  in  fixing  the  marriage  tie. 
But  if  ever  there  should  come  a  time  when 
the  first  flow  of  youth's  best  love  shall  be 
more  esteemed  than  a  fashionable  appear- 
ance ;  when  to  feel  that  there  is  one  being  in 
the  world  whose  very  life  is  bound  up  with 
ours,  and  to  be  always  near  that  being  shall 
be  more  thought  of  than  to  sit  at  the  tables 
of  the  great ;  when  an  humble  meal,  prepared 
by  the  hand  of  affection,  shall  be  considered 
sweeter  than  the  luxuries  of  the  epicure; 
then  may  we  hail  the  dawn  of  a  fresh  era 
of  happiness — the  commencement  of  a  new 
moral  existence  to  the  sons  and  daughters 
of  our  land. 

It  is  chiefly  on  the  part  of  mothers,  that  we 
so  much  want  some  fresh  effort  to  bring  for- 
ward such  an  era,  to  induce  young  people  to 
look  away  from  the  trivial  things  of  the  mo- 
ment, onward  to  some  greater  and  more 
lasting  good.  How  strange  that  we  should 
have  to  point  out  to  them,  that  one  consider- 
able portion  of  that  good,  is  the  exercise  of 
their  affections  in  the  lot  to  which  they  con- 
sign themselves  for  life  !  Yet  so  it  is.  Such 
is  the  influence  of  an  unhealthy  atmosphere, 
that  the  taste  becomes  vitiated,  and  a  prefer- 
ence at  last  is  given  to  what  is  neither  agree- 
able in  itself,  nor  beneficial  in  its  use  ;  and 
such  too  frequently  is  the  effect  of  breathing 
only  the  atmosphere  of  this  world. 

It  may  be  said,  however,  with  regard  to 
worldly-minded  persons,  that  whatever  is 
most  esteemed  by  the  world,  is  what  they 


72 


THE  MOTHERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


believe  to  be  best  for  them ;  and  that,  seek- 
ing material  excellence  as  their  chief  good, 
they  have  in  reality  their  heart's  desire.  It 
is  true  they  have  it,  but  do  they  enjoy  it?  or 
rather — for  that  is  the  question — do  they 
enjoy  it  to  the  highest  degree  in  which  they 
are  capable  of  enjoying  any  thing?  That 
they  do  to  a  certain  extent  enjoy  what  they 
possess,  I  am  not  prepared  to  dispute,  be- 
cause we  have  on  every  hand  strong  out- 
ward evidence  of  the  extreme  satisfaction 
felt  on  being  more  elegantly  dressed,  better 
equipped,  and  altogether  in  greater  favor 
with  the  world,  than  our  neighbors  are ; 
and  I  ask  not,  for  I  dare  not  ask,  how  often 
such  enjoyment  is  only  an  escape  from 
misery ;  how  often  the  secret  soul  rebels 
against  its  bondage,  and  returns  to  its  early 
and  voluntary  allegiance  ;  or  how  often  per- 
sons thus  situated  endeavor  to  be  contented 
with  what  they  are,  because  it  is  too  late  to 
aspire  to  be  what  they  might  have  been. 

We  must  not  forget  that  there  is  a  spirit 
at  work  among  the  affairs  of  men,  who  has 
been  appropriately  represented  as  saying — 

"  Evil,  be  thou  my  good :" 

and  when  we  fix  our  ideas  of  excellence 
upon  low  and  trivial  things,  because  we  have 
not  moral  courage  to  look  beyond  the  narrow 
prejudices  of  society ;  when  we  dare  not  pur- 
sue that  as  good,  which  would  really  be  so 
to  us,  because  it  is  not  sanctioned  by  the 
approbation  of  the  world ;  we  are  in  reality 
perverting  the  moral  order  of  the  universe, 
and  frustrating  the  gracious  designs  of  Prov- 
idence, in  giving  us  higher  capabilities  for 
happiness  than  we  choose  to  exercise. 

Nor  is  there  any  need  for  mothers  to  be 
discouraged  in  this  great  and  good  work, 
although  the  voice  of  society  should  some- 
times be  raised  against  their  efforts.  They 
have  unquestionably  a  right  to  train  up  their 
children  in  that  way  which  appears  to  them 
most  conducive  to  real  happiness ;  and  if, 
among  conflicting  opinions,  they  are  not 
always  able  to  see  clearly  the  direct  point  at 
which  to  aim,  let  them  remember  this  simple 
rule :  All  those  sources  of  enjoyment  which 


call  forth  such  faculties  and  emotions  as  we 
are  taught  by  the  Scriptures  to  believe  will 
constitute  part  of  the  enjoyments  of  heaven, 
must  be  worthy  of  cultivation  in  a  state  of 
existence  which  ought  to  be  a  preparation 
for  a  happy  eternity ;  while  all  those  sources 
of  enjoyment  which  call  forth  faculties  limited 
in  their  exercise  to  this  world  alone,  must  be 
of  an  inferior  nature,  and  worthy  only  of  a 
much  lower  portion  of  regard. 

It  is  then  to  this  ultimate  and  superior 
good  that  mothers  should  teach  their  children 
to  look,  and  at  the  same  time  so  fortify  their 
minds  by  moral  courage,  that  they  shall  dare 
to  choose  it  in  preference  to  the  inferior,  even 
though  the  world  in  general  may  condemn 
their  choice. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

GENERAL  DUTIES   OF  A  MOTHER. 

IN  pursuing  the  course  of  observations 
which  have  thus  far  occupied  our  attention, 
much  has  already  been  said  upon  the  im- 
portance of  keeping  the  moral  atmosphere 
of  home  in  a  healthy  state,  and  perhaps  too 
little  in  relation  to  the  bodily  health  of  chil- 
dren ;  yet  how  many  of  the  sufferings  of 
later  life  might  be  traced  to  neglect  of  this 
kind,  or  perhaps  to  mistaken  tenderness, 
rather  than  neglect ! 

To  be  always  pleasing  children,  always 
gratifying  their  appetites,  always  giving  them 
something  nice,  appears  to  be  the  ruling  pas- 
sion with  some  indulgent  mothers,  forgetful 
of  the  fact,  that  this  is  the  certain  means  of 
keeping  up  a  very  unnatural  and  unhealthy 
state  both  of  mind  and  body.  Yet  it  is  aston- 
ishing how  far  a  small  allowance  of  sweets 
may  be  made  to  go,  in  the  way  of  giving 
pleasure,  if  carefully  husbanded,  and  judi- 
ciously dealt  out ;  while  a  constant  revelling 
among  good  things  has  invariably  the  effect 
of  injuring  the  temper,  as  well  as  the  stomach. 

Whether  owing  to  the  climate  of  England, 
or  some  peculiarity  in  our  habits  and  consti- 


GENERAL  DUTIES  OF  A  MOTHER. 


73 


tutions,  it  is  not  my  business  here  to  inquire, 
but  there  certainly  exists  among  English  peo- 
ple something  unfavorable  to  the  healthy 
action  of  the  digestive  powers ;  and  hence 
follows  a  long  catalogue  of  uncomfortable 
sensations,  scarcely  to  be  classed  under  the 
!  head  of  disease,  which  beset  the  mind  as  well 
as  the  body,  and  assail  most  effectually  what 
are  called  the  animal  spirits.  In  the  manage- 
ment of  children,  it  is  consequently  of  the 
utmost  importance  that  attention  should  be 
directed  to  this  peculiarity  of  English  consti- 
tutions, for  of  all  maladies,  those  which  over- 
whelm the  mind  with  causeless  apprehen- 
sions, weaken  the  resolution,  and  render  the 
temper  irritable,  are  the  most  to  be  dreaded. 

Children  who  are  always  eating,  though 
they  eat  but  little  at  a  time,  are  almost  always 
ill-tempered ;  because  there  is  a  constant 
state  of  excitement  kept  up,  which  effectually 
destroys  the  healthy  tone  of  the  mind  ;  and 
while  they  make  themselves  and  everybody 
near  them  uncomfortable,  they  are  perpetu- 
ally seeking  to  allay  the  craving  of  a  diseased 
appetite,  by  urgent  applications  for  some 
fresh  indulgence,  which  is  granted  them  at 
least  as  often  for  peace'  sake,  as  for  love. 
Occasionally,  with  such  children,  the  exces- 
sive excitement  under  which  they  labor,  as- 
sumes the  character  of  fever  and  illness. 
The  doctor  is  then  sent  for.  Medicines  dis- 
guised in  every  possible  way,  and  powders 
wrapped  up  in  every  imaginable  confection, 
are  administered ;  and  as  the  patient  recovers, 
the  old  habits  by  degrees  are  resumed,  with 
the  addition  of  more  good  things  to  tempt  a 
weak  appetite,  and  greater  frequency  of  food 
to  supply  the  strength  which  has  been  lost 

Now,  if  mothers  could  but  be  made  to  try  it, 
I  believe  they  would  invariably  find,  that  a 
certain  number  of  meals,  consisting  of  plain 
food,  at  regular  intervals  every  day,  with 
nothing  between,  would  make  their  children 
both  healthier,  happier,  and  better  tempered, 
than  all  the  good  things  they  are  in  the  habit 
of  administering ;  to  say  nothing  of  the 
beneficial  effect  upon  their  future  lives,  which 
would  be  likely  to  ensue  from  a  sysJem  of 
diet  calculated  to  place  them  above  the  de- 


grading slavery  of  mere  animal  appetite. 
With-  regard  to  sweets,  too,  if  they  are  given 
out  sparingly  at  certain  hours  of  the  day,  and 
never  at  any  other— never  when  cried  for, 
nor  even  to  cure  a  cut  finger,  or  a  bruised 
knee,  they  will  give  incalculably  more  real 
gratification,  because  they  will  require  no 
teasing  for,  and,  being  sure  to  be  given  out 
at  a  certain  time,  can  occasion  no  disap- 
pointment 

Those  constant  teasings  on  the  part  of 
children,  which  we  hear  in  some  families; 
those  half  refusals  on  the  part  of  the  mother, 
and  those  ungracious  givings  at  last,  because 
teased  out  of  patience,  though  ruinous  alike 
to  peace  and  temper,  are  perhaps  of  all 
domestic  evils  the  most  easily  prevented; 
because  habit  does  so  much  with  children, 
that  if  they  have  never  been  accustomed  to 
eat  between  meals,  and  have  never  had 
sweets  given  them  except  at  certain  times, 
they  will  no  more  fret  themselves  to  obtain 
such  indulgences,  than  they  will  cry  because 
the  sun  does  not  rise  in  the  night 

Next  in  importance  to  regularity  and  mod- 
eration in  diet,  is  exercise  in  the  open  air ; 
and,  as  often  as  it  can  be  obtained,  the  free 
wild  exercise  of  country  life,  even  at  the  risk 
of  torn  dresses,  crushed  bonnets,  and  soiled 
shoes ;  all  of  which  articles,  however,  should 
be  provided  of  such  a  nature  as  to  create 
no  very  poignant  distress  when  they  happen 
to  be  a  little  worse  for  being  worn. 

It  is  not  the  mere  air,  nor  the  mere  exercise, 
though  both  are  good,  which  produces  the 
whole  of  the  benefit  derived  by  children  from 
country  sports.  It  is  the  immense  variety 
of  situations  in  which  they  may  be  placed, 
which  gives  them  an  energy,  a  fertility  of 
resource,  and,  above  all,  a  courage  and  self- 
possession,  extremely  difficult  to  acquire  in 
the  limited  range  of  town  amusements.  In 
the  country,  too,  children  may  try  their  skill, 
their  adroitness,  and  their  activity  in  a  thou- 
sand ways,  which  would  be  neither  safe  nor 
suitable  in  a  town  ;  and  therefore  it  is,  that 
children,  brought  up  in  the  country,  though 
sometimes  appearing  ignorant  as  regards  the 
technicalities  of  polished  life,  have  often 


74 


THE  MOTHERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


within  themselves  a  fund  of  resource  which 
helps  them  over  innumerable  difficulties,  and 
a  fund  of  amusement,  too,  which  supplies 
them  with  perpetual  cheerfulness. 

As  soon  as  children  are  old  enough  to  ride 
with  safety,  horse-exercise  affords  one  of  the 
most  exhilarating  and  delightful  amusements 
of  the  country.  Let  them  learn  to  ride 
without  fear,  to  accommodate  themselves  to 
the  different  movements  of  their  pony,  so  as 
not  to  be  thrown  up  into  the  air,  to  drop 
down  again  like  a  dead  weight ;  and  let 
them  learn,  too,  what  to  do  on  the  instant 
when  a  horse  starts,  rears,  or  strikes  off  into 
a  gallop  ;  and  they  will  then  have  learned, 
besides  the  art  of  riding,  a  great  deal  that 
will  be  serviceable  to  them  in  after  life. 

But  they  should  learn,  in  addition  to  the 
art  of  riding,  the  nature  and  habits  of  the 
horse.  So  noble,  sagacious,  and  beautiful  an 
animal,  is  well  worthy  of  their  study.  They 
should  be  instructed  in  its  muscular  construc- 
tion, and  especially  the  wonderful  adaptation 
of  its  feet  and  legs  to  the  purposes  in  which 
it*  is  rendered  so  serviceable  to  man  ;  and 
they  should  also  learn  the  action  and  the  use 
of  the  bridle,  with  all  the  other  trappings  and 
accoutrements  of  a  horse,  so  that  in  case  of 
accident,  such  as  the  turning  of  a  saddle, 
or  the  breaking  of  a  rein,  they  need  not  give 
themselves  up  to  useless  terror,  but  set  about 
doing  the  right  thing  at  the  right  time. 

I  mention  more  particularly  these  appa- 
rently trivial  things,  because  I  am  convinced 
there  is  not  sufficient  use  made,  in  the  edu- 
cation of  children,  of  such  common  means 
of  exciting  interest,  and  conveying  informa- 
tion at  the  same  time  ;  and  because  it  is  not 
in  the  act  of  riding  alone,  but  throughout  the 
whole  training  of  children,  that  too  little  pains 
are  taken  to  make  them  thoroughly  acquaint- 
ed with  what  they  are  about  As  a  mere 
dead  lesson  taught  in  a  close  school-room, 
it  is  probable  that  the  mind  of  a  child  would 
with  difficulty  be  made  to  receive  any  lasting 
or  correct  idea  of  the  character  of  a  horse  ; 
but  on  a  clear  fresh  morning  in  the  country, 
while  riding  by  the  side  of  a  kind  and  intel- 
ligent father,  every  thing  told  to  a  child  about 


the  lively  little  animal,  which  carries  it  along 
so  cheerfully,  pricking  its  ears  at  every  move- 
ment in  the  hawthorn  hedge,  keeping  pace 
with  its  more  majestic  companion,  and  deter- 
mined not  to  be  outdone,  either  in  a  light 
gallop  over  the  rebounding  turf,  or  a  leap 
over  the  little  brook  which  crosses  the  way — 
every  tiling  told  to  a  child  about  a  creature 
so  intensely  interesting  as  its  own  pony,  is 
sure  to  be  listened  to  and  remembered.  Nor 
is  it  in  the  act  of  riding  it  alone  that  the 
child  finds  delight  There  is  the  fetching  it 
up  out  of  the  field,  and  the  merry  turning 
out — a  sight  worth  seeing  both  by  old  and 
young ;  for  what  can  be  more  graceful  than 
the  light  movements  and  free  play  of  a  high- 
spirited  and  beautiful  horse  ? 

But  we  must  not  leave  this  subject  with- 
out reminding  the  mother,  that  it  is  one 
which  demands  her  peculiar  care,  as  regards 
her  boys.  It  is  a  generally  acknowledged 
fact,  that  the  class  of  men  whose  business 
consists  in  the  training  and  management  of 
horses  are  among  the  last  whose  society  a 
prudent  mother  would  choose  for  her  sons. 
If,  therefore,  the  father,  or  other  members  of 
the  family,  cannot  take  charge  of  this  depart- 
ment in  the  education  of  children,  it  would 
be  better  a  thousand  times  that  they  should 
never  learn  to  ride,  than  learn  this  delightful 
art  at  the  risk  of  association  with  grooms  and 
stable-boys.  Indeed,  the  first  symptom  which 
develops  itself  in  a  boy,  of  a  tendency  to  the 
swagger  of  jockeyship,  ought  to  be  regarded 
with  the  most  serious  apprehensions ;  for 
how  many  instances  does  the  dark  catalogue 
of  crime  afford,  of  hopeful  youths  led  astray 
in  the  first  instance  by  their  taste  for  the 
stable  and  the  turf,  whose  career  in  the  end 
has  been  most  degraded  and  ruinous  ! 

With  regard  to  the  exercise  of  riding,  then, 
as  well  as  with  a  vast  number  of  other 
amusements,  which  may  under  certain  cir- 
cumstances be  rendered  not  only  lawful  but 
beneficial  to  young  people,  this  rule  ought  to 
be  observed — that  unless  the  parents,  or 
friends  whom  they  depute  in  their  stead,  can 
take  the  whole  matter  into  their  own  hands, 
the  amusement  itself  should  not  be  thought 


GENERAL  DUTIES  OF  A  MOTHER. 


75 


of;  and  this  rule  I  believe  will  hold  good  with 
regard  to  visiting,  reading,  and  a  variety  of 
other  things,  which  may  or  may  not  be  ob- 
jectionable, according  to  the  associations  with 
which  they  are  accompanied.  There  are 
many  books,  for  instance,  which  parents  may 
occasionally  read  to  children  with  safety,  ac- 
companied by  their  own  observations,  but 
which,  if  read  alone  and  in  secret,  would 
produce  a  very  different  impression  upon  the 
youthful  mind.  If,  therefore,  I  repeat,  pa- 
rents cannot,  or  will  not,  take  the  whole  con- 
duct and  responsibility  of  these  indulgences 
into  their  own  hands,  they  had  infinitely  bet- 
ter narrow  the  sphere  of  their  children's 
amusements  than  allow  them  to  be  enjoyed  at 
so  great  a  risk. 

In  speaking  of  the  books  to  be  allowed  or 
forbidden  in  a  family,  I  do  not  feel  myself 
called  upon  to  lay  down,  or  even  to  suggest, 
any  rule.  Indeed,  it  would  appear  to  me  a 
little  too  much  like  presumption  to  dictate  on 
a  point  of  duty  belonging  so  exclusively  to 
the  decision  of  parents,  and  depending  so  en- 
tirely upon  their  individual  views  and  habits. 
So  far  as  may  be  practicable,  I  should  wish 
more  particularly  to  direct  the  attention  of  the 
reader  to  those  points  of  duty  which  are  too 
little  thought  of,  but  upon  which  all  who 
think  seriously  and  impartially  are  agreed. 
Under  this  class  we  may  safely  place  the 
rule,  that  nothing  should  be  done  clandes- 
tinely in  a  family — that  there  should  be  such 
a  feeling  of  confidence  inspired  by  the  pa- 
rents, and  such  habits  of  freedom  and  can- 
dor encouraged  among  their  children,  as 
would  tend  very  much  to  do  away  with  all 
temptation  to  deceive. 

In  order  to  effect  this,  however,  there  must 
be  considerable  allowance  made  for  the  differ- 
ence betwixt  youth  and  age.  We  should 
never  forget  that  the  one  is  going  up  the  hill 
the  other  down — the  one  looking  out  from  the 
windows  of  the  soul  upon  an  untried  world ; 
the  other  returning,  weary  of  that  world,  to 
the  retirement  of  the  soul  again.  There 
should  be  great  allowance  made  also,  for  the 
progressive  changes  in  society,  for  the  spread 
of  intelligence,  the  expansion  of  thought,  and 


the  gradual   advance  of  intellectual  attain- 
ments in  every  walk  of  life. 

We  have  long  since  passed  that  stage  of 
civilization  in  which  safety  was  regarded  as 
consisting  in  narrowing  up  the  mind  of  youth, 
and  it  is  our  business  now,  to  find  out  how 
safety  may  be  made  consistent  with  expan- 
sion. In  the  first  place,  I  should  say,  by 
clear,  honorable,  and  straight-forward  treat- 
ment at  home.  There  should  be  no  decep- 
tion on  the  part  of  the  mother,  no  false  ex- 
cuses even  to  obtain  a  good  end,  no  calling 
hard  things  by  soft  names,  or  other  modes  of 
practising  upon  the  credulity  of  childhood. 
Even  in  cases  of  illness,  let  medicine  be  medi- 
cine, though  wrapped  up  in  jelly  ;  and  do 
not  pretend  when  it  has  to  be  administered, 
that  you  are  offering  only  a  delicious  treat. 
A  well-managed  child,  accustomed  to  habits 
of  implicit  obedience,  will  take  its  medicine 
knowing  what  it  is,  simply  because  it  must 
be  taken,  and  because  it  believes  that  its  mo- 
ther will  not  require  it  to  do  any  thing  contrary 
to  its  real  good ;  while  the  child  at  first  de- 
ceived into  the  belief  that  what  is  offered  is 
only  currant-jelly,  will  in  all  probability  detect 
the  trick,  and  ever  afterwards  exhibit  a  ten- 
fold strength  of  determination  to  resist 

But  even  where  such  practices  are  not  dis- 
covered by  the  child,  (here  is  a  moral  mean- 
ness on  the  part  of  the  mother,  in  making 
such  a  system  the  rule  of  her  conduct  to- 
wards her  family.  If  she  is  truly  beloved  and 
esteemed,  she  will  have  influence  enough  to 
enforce  a  direct  obedience  to  her  wishes,  and 
in  case  of  resistance,  she  will  have  sufficient 
authority  to  command. 

In  all  families  there  will  necessarily  be  the 
occurrence  of  circumstances,  or  subjects  of 
discussion,  with  which  the  junior  members 
cannot  with  propriety  be  made  acquainted. 
These,  however,  are  such  as  require  no  de- 
ception to  conceal,  because  there  is  no  ne- 
cessity for  their  being  talked  about,  or  even 
hinted  at,  before  children.  Nothing  is  more 
common  with  mothers  than  to  send  their 
children  out  of  the  way  on  false  pretences — 
to  go  and  play  in  the  garden,  or  to  see  what 
the  nurse  is  doing,  when  in  reality  their  ab- 


78 


THE  MOTHERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


sence  is  all  that  is  desired.  To  a  noble  and 
generous  nature,  there  is  something  revolting 
in  this  mode  of  treatment ;  and  I  feel  assured 
that  all  children  accustomed  to  look  to  a  high 
moral  standard,  would  be  better  and  happier 
to  be  sent  out  of  the  room  every  day  because 
their  parents  wished  to  talk  about  something 
not  suitable  for  them  to  hear,  than  once  to 
detect  those  parents  in  having  got  rid  of 
them  by  a  false  pretence. 

In  these,  as  well  as  all  other  cases  in  which 
they  could  understand  it,  children  should  be 
admitted  to  know  the  very  heart  of  their 
mother.  They  should  not  be  left  by  chance 
to  discover  that  they  have  been  intruding 
upon  her  privacy,  and  that  because  she 
thought  them  too  selfish  and  unreasonable 
to  bear  to  know  the  truth,  she  invented  a 
pretext  for  getting  rid  of  their  company  with- 
out otfending  their  vanity.  Such  discoveries, 
whether  made  by  the  young  or  the  old,  have 
invariably  the  effect  of  destroying  confidence, 
and  estranging  affection.  Every  thing,  then, 
which  tends  to  destroy  that  open,  generous, 
upright  spirit,  which  ought  to  pervade  the 
atmosphere  of  home,  is  as  much  to  be  feared, 
as  that  which  leads  into  more  obvious  and 
direct  evil ;  because  it  operates  upon  the 
moral  constitution  of  children,  and  conse- 
quently tells  upon  their  future  lives. 

In  the  formation  of  character  it  makes  an 
immense  difference,  whether  we  aim  at  what 
is  great,  or  what  is  little.  There  is  a  feeble- 
ness of  resolution,  a  littleness  of  purpose,  and 
a  puerility  of  character  altogether,  which 
may  be  both  amiable  and  respectable  in  its 
way,  but  it  must  ever  be  in  a  small  way ;  and 
while  I  should  be  sorry  indeed  to  recommend 
any  thing  likely  to  be  destructive  to  simplici- 
ty, I  feel  convinced  in  my  own  mind,  that 
true  nobility  of  character  will  always  be 
found  associated  with  a  certain  degree  of 
simplicity  of  heart 

Eagerness  to  obtain  immediate  gratifica- 
tion, to  snatch  at  individual  good,  and  to 
reap  the  harvest  as  soon  as  the  seed  is  sown, 
is  not  only  the  characteristic  of  childhood, 
but  of  all  stages  of  life,  with  those  who  never 
attain  a  moral  dignity  beyond  that  of  chil- 


dren. To  prove  that  the  possession  of  an 
expected  pleasure  does  not  really  do  good,  or 
that  the  privation  of  it  does  not  really  do 
harm,  is  a  part  of  the  discipline  exercised  by 
Divine  wisdom.  It  is  a  lesson  we  all  have 
to  learn,  and  the  sooner  the  better ;  for  hav- 
ing learned  this  lesson,  the  eagerness  of  what 
may  be  called  an  appetite  for  pleasure  is  al- 
layed, and  the  mind  is  enabled  to  stretch  on- 
ward to  that  greater  good,  which,  in  so  many 
instances,  can  only  be  obtained  by  intermedi- 
ate suffering  and  endurance. 

Patient  waiting  for  a  long-expected  issue, 
with  unabated  efforts  steadily  directed  to  one 
point,  an  eye  fixed  intently  upon  one  object 
of  attainment,  and  not  diverted  by  interve- 
ning things — these  all  belong  to  true  great- 
ness of  character ;  and  they  are  more  espe- 
cially worthy  of  our  attention,  as  forming 
parts  of  the  Christian  character  too ;  for 
where  would  be  the  exercise  of  faith,  if  things 
hoped  for  were  immediately  seen  1 

In  the  formation  of  a  noble,  and  even  of  a 
useful  character,  great  importance  should  be 
attached  to  the  keeping  of  a  promise,  but 
great  regard  should  also  be  paid  to  the  act  of 
forming  it  Some  persons  think  they  have 
resolved,  when  they  have  merely  said  to 
themselves  they  will  do  a  thing  ;  and  others 
again,  think  they  have  resolved,  when  they 
have  made  no  calculation  of  the  difficulties 
to  be  encountered.  In  order  to  keep  our  res- 
olution firm  and  inviolate,  we  should  not 
play  with  it  We  should  not  use  it  hastily, 
or  often,  but  rather  keep  it  in  reserve,  as  a 
sacred  power  with  which  we  are  invested, 
and  which  it  would  be  an  abuse  of  one  of 
the  best  gifts  of  God  to  man,  to  trifle  with, 
weaken,  or  destroy. 

Children  especially  should  be  taught  to 
think  well  before  they  resolve ;  but  having 
formed  a  resolution,  they  ought  to  be  encour- 
aged by  all  means  to  keep  it.  All  promises 
should  also  be  scrupulously  kept  with  them, 
even  at  the  cost  of  some  annoyance  to  their  pa- 
rents or  friends.  It  is  related  of  Lord  Chatham, 
that  having  promised  his  son  to  see  the  pull- 
ing down  of  a  garden  wall,  he  happened  to 
forget  this  promise,  and  had  it  pulled  down 


GENERAL  DUTIES  OF  A  MOTHER. 


77 


in  his  absence.  Yet  so  strong  was  his  feeling 
of  the  importance  of  what  he  had  done,  that 
he  ordered  his  workmen  to  build  up  the  wall 
again,  in  order  that  his  son  might  witness 
the  downfall  he  had  anticipated  with  so  much 
interest. 

It  seems  strange  that  all  the  world  should 
concur  in  admiring  a  character  of  spotless  in- 
tegrity, and  yet  take  so  little  pains  to  main- 
tain it  in  the  young,  when  we  know  that 
every  deviation  from  the  direct  line  of  recti- 
tude on  the  part  of  parents,  must  necessarily 
tend  to  obscure  that  line  in  the  minds  of  their 
children,  who  look  up  to  them  as  examples, 
and  who  are  more  influenced  by  the  general 
conduct  of  those  with  whom  they  associate, 
than  by  the  force  of  argument  or  the  persua- 
sion of  eloquence.  The  manner  in  which 
they  are  treated,  then,  should  be  firm,  up- 
right, and  clear.  There  should  be  no  confu- 
sion of  contending  motives  ;  no  aiming  at  one 
thing,  and  pretending  to  aim  at  another. — 
Even  in  reasoning  with  them,  things  should 
be  spoken  of  as  they  are,  not  merely  as  their 
parents  wish  them  to  be. 

It  is  astonishing  how  far  some  well-mean- 
ing persons  seem  to  think  they  can  stretch 
the  credulity  of  youth  by  representing  the  al- 
lurements of  the  world  as  no  allurements  at 
all.  When  it  was  so  much  the  fashion  to 
admire  Lord  Byron  that  young  people  scarce- 
ly admired  any  other  author,  many  good  per- 
sons, without  the  least  talent  for  criticism, 
felt  it  their  duty  to  depreciate  him  as  a  poet ; 
while  perhaps  the  very  individuals  they  ad- 
dressed had  their  minds  so  imbued  with  the 
true  spirit  of  poetry  as  to  feel  their  under- 
standings insulted  at  the  same  time  that  their 
taste  was  offended,  by  a  mode  of  reasoning 
from  data  so  evidently  false. 

It  is  thus  with  much  that  is  too  pleasing 
in  the  world.  We  wish  it  was  otherwise ; 
but  since  it  is  pleasing,  and  especially  so  to 
youth,  we  gain  nothing  by  denying  the  fact, 
or  by  speaking  in  disparaging  terms  of  what 
is  really  the  very  thing  they  most  desire. 
There  must,  with  children,  and  with  all  in 
whose  feelings  we  wish  to  produce  a  radical 
change,  be  a  certain  kind  of  meeting  half  way, 


a  candid  acknowledgment  of  the  truth,  so  far 
as  it  goes,  even  when  most  opposed  to  our 
wishes ;  or  by  what  means  are  they  to  be 
made  to  believe,  that  we  enter  so  far  into  their 
feelings  as  to  sympathize  with  them,  and  so 
far  into  the  case  itself  as  to  understand  it? 

Towards  the  support  of  true  dignity  of 
character,  many  things  are  required,  which 
would  not,  on  first  looking  at  the  subject, 
appear  to  be  at  all  essential.  Among  these 
I  would  class  a  habit  which  ought  to  be  made 
part  of  the  education  of  children — that  of 
always  speaking  and  behaving  well  at  home. 
Two  sets  of  manners,  one  for  the  home  circle, 
and  one  for  the  circle  of  society  to  which  they 
are  occasionally  admitted,  are  sure  to  produce 
the  effect  of  making  a  character  only  half 
what  it  ought  to  be.  It  is  as  easy  to  learn  to 
speak  well,  as  to  speak  otherwise  ;  and  where 
the  language  of  the  fireside  is  always  correct, 
there  can  be  no  danger  of  being  guilty  of  vul- 
garisms on  public  occasions. 

We  are  too  apt  to  confuse  the  two  ideas  of 
good  society,  and  society  above  us.  It  is  in 
the  power  of  all  united  and  intelligent  families, 
to  make  their  own  society  good,  by  adopting 
such  habits  and  manners  at  home,  as  they 
would  wish  to  be  distinguished  by  abroad. 
By  never  having  indulged  in  vulgar  habits, 
or  made  use  of  a  phraseology  unfitted  for  the 
best  society,  and  by  never  having  been  accus- 
tomed to  blunt  or  awkward  manners,  a  young 
person  will  be  spared  the  suffering  of  much 
of  that  shyness  and  embarrassment,  which 
are  the  painful  experience  of  those  who  only 
behave  well  when  they  go  into  company  ; 
and  who  thus  lay  themselves  open  to  the 
suspicion  of  acting  a  part  which  is  foreign  to 
their  feelings ;  at  the  same  time  that  they 
reveal  the  secret  of  an  absence  of  good  breed- 
ing in  their  homes  and  families. 

There  are  persons,  however,  whose  beha- 
vior is  pleasant  and  obliging  enough-  to  their 
equals,  whether  at  home  or  abroad,  yet  to 
those  whom  they  consider  their  inferior?,  the 
very  reverse ;  so  that  the  very  fact  of  any 
one  with  whom  they  have  to  communicate, 
being  poor,  ill-dressed,  or  in  a  dependent  situ- 
ation, seems  to  justify  them  in  laying  aside 


78 


THE  MOTHERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


entirely  their  good  manners.  The  less,  then, 
that  children  are  allowed  to  consider  good 
manners  as  something  apart  from  themselves, 
something  put  on  for  a  purpose  or  an  occa- 
sion, to  be  laid  aside  when  no  longer  needed, 
the  more  likely  they  will  be  to  act  consistently 
in  an  amiable  and  obliging  manner ;  and  if 
carefully  taught  by  their  parents  that  they 
have  no  more  right  to  be  rude  to  one  class  of 
persons,  than  to  another,  they  will  be  pre- 
served from  much  that  is  objectionable  in  the 
conduct  of  ill-bred  families.  In  this,  however, 
as  in  so  many  other  instances,  the  mother's 
whole  character,  her  daily  and  hourly  con- 
duct, and  the  moral  atmosphere  in  which  her 
children  live,  will  operate  more  advanta- 
geously than  all  her  arguments,  or  even  her 
entreaties. 

If,  in  the  first  place,  mothers  are  careful  in 
the  choice  of  their  servants,  and  faithful  in 
the  discharge  of  their  duty  towards  them, 
they  will  experience  neither  difficulty  nor 
danger  in  studiously  inculcating  towards 
them  a  kind  and  respectful  behavior  on  the 
part  of  their  children ;  and  especially  that 
consideration  which  is  always  due  to  those 
who  spend  their  lives  in  laboring  for  our 
comfort  and  convenience,  with  no  other  re- 
ward than  their  necessary  food  and  clothing. 
The  easy  manner  in  which  servants  are  got 
rid  of,  and  their  places  supplied  by  others ; 
but  more  particularly  the  manner  in  which 
they  are  too  frequently  spoken  of,  sometimes 
as  necessary  evils,  and  sometimes  as  parties 
infinitely  obliged  by  our  permitting  them  to 
work  for  us ;  the  patient  subserviency  of  this 
class  of  persons,  their  willingness  to  serve  us, 
and  the  uncomplaining  manner  in  which  they 
carry  on  the  drudgery  of  every  day,  all  tend 
to  impress  the  minds  of  children  with  an 
idea,  that  it  is  but  a  matter  of  course,  what 
people  are  born  to,  and  therefore  worthy  of 
no  sort  of  consideration,  that  servants  should 
labor  all  their  lives,  and  that  we  should  enjoy 
the  fruits  of  their  labor. 

Although  one  would  scarcely  venture  to 
recommend  so  deplorable  an  expedient,  as 
that  a  household  should  be  without  servants 
for  a  week,  or  a  month,  in  order  to  inspire  a 


higher  sense  of  their  value;  yet  there  are 
innumerable  methods,  which  ought  not  to  be 
neglected,  of  teaching  children  that  they  are 
under  an  obligation  to  respectable  and  oblig- 
ing servants,  which  nothing  can  so  well  re- 
pay, as  to  convince  them,  by  our  behavior, 
that  we  perpetually  bear  in  mind,  not  only 
what  may  add  to  their  comfort  and  conve- 
nience, but  also  what  may  make  their  hard 
lot  harder  than  it  is ;  and  this  can  be  shown 
in  so  many  pleasant  ways,  without  being  too 
familiar,  that  one  would  almost  suppose  the 
mistress  of  a  house,  herself  a  well-bred  wo- 
man, would  consider  it  an  essential  part  of 
good  manners,  that  her  children  should  be 
well-behaved  and  considerate  towards  ser- 
vants, as  well  as  towards  persons  in  their 
own  sphere  of  life. 

Above  all  things  degrading  to  the  moral 
dignity  of  a  family,  is  a  practice  not  uncom- 
mon with  a  certain  class  of  women,  though 
happily  a  small  one,  of  encouraging  their 
children  to  watch  the  habits  of  servants,  and 
tell  tales  out  of  the  kitchen.  All  well-regu- 
lated families  constitute  one  party,  the  ser- 
vants as  much  bound  to  the  interests  of  their 
master  and  mistress,  as  the  higher  members 
of  the  household  are  to  those  of  the  lower  ; 
and  no  sooner  is  a  system  of  espionage  es- 
tablished, and  a  habit  acquired  of  acting  for 
one  party  in  the  establishment  against  another, 
than  the  fall  predicted  of  the  house  divided 
against  itself,  may  with  certainty  be  antici- 
pated. Children,  in  fact,  should  never  be 
made  partisans  in  any  thing.  Whatever  our 
own  prejudices,  or  even  suspicions,  may  be, 
their  minds  should  be  left  unbiased,  except 
so  far  as  relates  to  actual  facts ;  and  where 
facts  are  unfavorable  on  the  part  of  servants, 
the  sooner  such  servants  are  got  rid  of  the 
better,  even  though  in  some  respects  they 
may  be  suited  exactly  to  our  particular  pur- 
pose. 

But  at  the  same  time  that  it  is  highly  de- 
sirable for  children  to  be  effectually  prevented 
from  assuming  a  premature  lordship  and 
dominion  over  servants,  and  more  especially 
from  regarding  as  unworthy  of  consideration 
all  which  relates  to  their  comfort  and  accom- 


GENERAL  DUTIES  OF  A  MOTHER. 


79 


modation  ;  they  ought,  on  the  other  hand,  to 
be  carefully  guarded  against  making  them- 
selves a  party  with  servants,  either  in  obtain- 
ing their  own  ends  in  opposition  to  their  pa- 
rents, or  serving  the  selfish  purposes  of  ser- 
vants in  any  other  way.  All  symptoms  of 
the  society  of  this  class  of  persons  being  a 
favorite  indulgence  to  the  young,  is  an  omen 
of  danger  which  ought  not  to  be  disregarded ; 
and  above  every  thing  they  should  be  kept 
away  from  their  bed-rooms,  as  well  as  from 
every  other  place  where  servants  are  privi- 
leged to  carry  on  their  own  peculiar  style  of 
conversation,  unrestrained  by  any  fear  of 
intrusion. 

With  every  possible  allowance  for  the  de- 
fective education  of  this  class  of  persons,  and 
with  the  highest  esteem  for  the  general  char- 
acter of  a  truly  respectable  servant,  I  still 
think  that  the  best  of  them  are  too  much 
under  the  influence  of  false  and  limited  views 
of  things  in  general,  to  admit  of  their  being 
desirable  companions  for  children  in  their 
moments  of  unrestrained  confidence.  But 
when  we  speak  of  those  who  are  not  the 
best,  especially  of  those  artful  and  unprinci- 
pled characters  who  endeavor  to  work  their 
way  by  flattering  the  vanity,  or  falling  in  with 
the  wrong  feelings  of  their  superiors,  it  is  im- 
possible to  express  too  strongly  the  sense 
which  all  reasonable  persons  must  entertain, 
of  the  dangerous  consequences  likely  to  ensue 
from  association  with  such  individuals,  even 
in  the  nursery,  where  the  influence  of  the 
mother  might  be  supposed  most  likely  to  im- 
pose a  certain  degree  of  restraint 

What  shall  we  say,  however,  where  the 
mother  is  a  party  implicated,  and  where  the 
habit  of  telling  depreciating  stories  of  other 
people's  children,  is  made  a  means  of  gaining 
favor,  at  the  same  time  that  it  must  awaken 
in  the  minds  of  the  young,  the  worst  feelings 
of  human  nature — envy,  and  jealousy  of  those 
above  them,  and  contempt  for  those  whom 
they  imagine  to  be  beneath"?  For,  independ- 
ently of  the  false  ideas  of  merit  which  are 
thus  affixed  to  their  notions  of  fine  dresses, 
and  personal  beauty,  abundant  supplies  of 
money,  and  other  considerations  of  merely 


casual  and  inferior  importance,  the  calling 
into  operation  by  such  means  a  contemptu- 
ous or  bitter  feeling  towards  their  fellow- 
creatures,  is,  perhaps,  the  greatest  injury 
which  it  is  in  the  power  of  a  mother  to  inflict 
upon  her  children.  Yet  how  often  in  the 
mere  momentary  pastime  of  the  nursery,  do 
mothers  and  nurses  wield  these  fatal  weapons, 
so  deadly  in  the  warfare  they  wage  against 
human  happiness !  How  often  does  the 
vulgar  observation,  that  Miss  C —  is  beauti- 
fully dressed,  but  does  not  become  her  dress 
so  well  as  Miss  B — ,  awaken  calculations  of 
low  rivalry,  and  thoughts  inimical  to  all 
nobility  of  feeling  in  the  breast  of  a  young 
listener,  who  pines  to  be  out-shining  a  neigh- 
bor's child,  where  she  is  foolishly  led  to  be- 
lieve that  her  triumph  would  be  complete  ! 

It  seems  to  be  our  business  here  to  look 
only  at  the  dark  side  of  human  nature,  but 
there  is  yet  another  feature  in  the  moral 
training  of  the  nursery,  to  which  allusion 
must  be  made.  I  have  thus  far  said  little  of 
the  position  which  a  father  holds  in  his 
family,  yet  this  I  believe  it  will  always  be  in 
the  power  of  the  mother  to  render  exalted 
and  dignified,  or  directly  the  reverse.  We 
have  all  heard  of  such  a  thing— perhaps 
some  of  us  have  seen  it — as  a  mother  mak- 
ing a  party  with  her  children  to  oppose  the 
wishes  or  authority  of  their  father.  We 
have  heard  of  secret  cabals  in  the  nursery, 
and  little  deceptions  practised  in  the  parlor, 
and  hints  given,  and  expressive  looks  ex- 
changed, and  little  speeches  made,  which  had 
been  planned  beforehand  to  produce  a  par- 
ticular effect— and  of  all  this  being  made  to 
constitute  a  system  of  behavior  by  which  a 
father  was  to  be  duped  by  his  own  children, 
and  his  wife !  And  painful  as  it  is  to  believe 
that  meanness  so  degrading  should  be  found 
to  exist  on  the  part  of  women,  there  is  but 
too  much  reason  to  fear,  that  from  the  ab- 
sence of  clear  views,  and  sound  principles, 
from  having  had  recourse  to  artifice,  to  make 
the  domestic  machine  move  smoothly,  and 
from  having  once  fallen  into  a  low  and  grov- 
elling mode  of  conduct  in  little  things,  an 
approach  to  this  system,  if  not  actually  the 


80 


THE  MOTHERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


extreme  of  it,  is  practised  on  the  part  of 
many  women,  whose  feelings  would  revolt 
from  the  base  and  unqualified  idea  of  acting 
ungenerously  towards  their  husbands,  and 
their  children,  at  the  same  time. 

There  are  many  persons  who  will  serve  us 
personally  to  the  utmost  of  their  power,  who 
will  not  be  faithful  to  us.  There  are  many 
who  will  wait  upon  us  when  we  are  ill,  who 
scruple  not  to  make  one  of  a  party  against  us. 
There  are  many  who  spend  their  strength  in 
adding  to  our  bodily  enjoyments,  who  will 
not  guard  our  moral  dignity,  nor  preserve  us 
from  mental  suffering.  There  are  many  wo- 
men who  love  their  husbands,  and  do  not 
honor  them — perhaps  some  who  cannot ;  and 
such  women  never  know  the  whole  of  the 
difficulties  of  their  lot,  until  they  have  chil- 
dren to  bring  up,  and  to  instruct  in  their  filial 
duties.  But  still  even  in  these  cases,  there  is 
much  that  a  faithful  wife  may  do  towards 
establishing  a  right  feeling  betwixt  her  hus- 
band and  her  children,  by  screening  his  faults 
from  observation  ;  and  where  they  are  too  ob- 
vious for  concealment,  by  speaking  of  them 
with  pity,  rather  than  with  blame ;  by  dwell- 
ing with  tenderness  and  constancy  upon  those 
features  in  his  character  which  present  a  more 
favorable  aspect ;  and  by  setting  an  example 
of  giving  honor  where  honor  is  due,  simply  be- 
cause it  has  pleased  the  Allwise  Disposer  of 
human  events,  to  place  her  and  her  children 
in  an  inferior  situation  as  regards  their  father. 

It  must  be  granted,  however,  that  there  are 
cases  in  which  men  will  not  be  dignified  and 
influential  in  their  own  families,  nor  can  any- 
bjdy  make  them  so ;  and  where  also,  with 
great  propriety,  they  give  up  their  share  in 
the  management  of  their  children  entirely  to 
the  mother.  Yet  here  again,  a  right-minded 
woman,  possessed  of  tact  and  delicacy  of  feel- 
ing, will  so  exercise  her  delegated  authority, 
as  that  it  shall  appear  to  her  children  to  be 
willingly  conceded  on  the  part  of  her  husband, 
and  not  possessed  by  her  as  an  unquestiona- 
ble right 

But  there  are  even  worse  cases  than  these, 
where  parents  cannot  agree  in  their  ideas  of 
what  is  best  for  their  children ;  and  without 


presuming  to  interfere  where  no  third  party 
has  any  right  to  meddle,  I  can  only  urge  upon 
the  mother  thus  situated,  never  to  allow  dis- 
putes betwixt  her  and  her  husband  to  take 
place  betore  other  members  of  the  family — 
never  to  allow  them  even  to  suppose  that 
such  disputes  do  arise  to  disturb  the  secret 
current  of  domestic  happiness. 

So  much  has  been  said  by  writers  of  every 
description  upon  the  depth  and  the  tenderness 
of  maternal  love,  that  to  enlarge  upon  such  a 
theme  would  be  only  to  echo  the  sentiments 
of  every  human  heart  But  we  must  not  for- 
get, that  while  wholly  given  up  to  this  feeling, 
so  sacred  in  itself,  there  is  such  a  thing  as 
neglecting,  for  the  sake  of  the  luxury  it  affords, 
the  duty  of  a  wife.  Yes ;  there  is  such  a 
thing  as  forgetting  when  the  father  returns 
home,  that  it  ought  to  be  to  a  scene  of  order, 
harmony,  and  comfort  There  is  such  a  thing 
as  forgetting,  that  the  personal  beauty,  the 
neatness,  and  the  grace  which  first  charmed 
his  fancy,  gives  place  to  a  meager  substitute 
for  him,  in  the  forlornness,  and  neglect  of  the 
devoted  nurse.  There  is  such  a  thing  as  for- 
getting, that  however  interesting  children 
may  be,  they  ought  never  to  occupy  the  at- 
tention of  their  mother,  to  the  exclusion  of 
their  father,  or  his  affairs.  It  is  true,  that  un- 
like them,  he  is  competent  to  manage  his  af- 
fairs himself;  but  it  deserves  no  milder  name 
than  cruelty,  when  a  father  is  made  to  feel 
jealous  of  his  own  children — when  that  love, 
which  in  the  first  instance  was  solemnly  and 
tenderly  pledged  to  support  and  comfort  him 
for  life,  is  thus  unnecessarily  torn  from  its  al- 
legiance, to  be  concentrated  where  he  has  at 
least  an  equal  right  to  share  in  the  benefits  it 
is  calculated  to  bestow  upon  all,  without  di- 
minishing the  share  of  any. 

It  is  possible  even  to  love  in  a  selfish  man- 
ner. Whenever  the  heart  is  fixed  upon  one 
object,  to  the  exclusion  of  all  others,  affection 
partakes  of  this  character ;  and  wherever  a 
mother  thus  doats  upon  her  children,  she  is 
guilty  of  an  act  of  unfaithfulness  to  her  hus- 
band, at  the  same  time  that  she  places  herself 
in  a  perilous  position,  from  whence  the  first 
shock  of  disease,  or  the  first  symptom  of  in- 


HINTS  ON  EDUCATION. 


81 


gratitude,  may  cast  her  down  into  utter 
wretchedness. 

We  must  endeavor  then  to  make  our  affec- 
tions, as  well  as  our  talents,  answer  the  ends 
for  which  they  were  designed  by  a  wise  and 
merciful  Creator.  They  must  not  be  narrow- 
ed up  so  as  to  contract  those  streams  of  be- 
nevolence so  much  needed  in  a  state  of  vicis- 
situde like  our  present  life  ;  nor  must  they  be 
concentrated  into  one  focus,  so  as  to  barn 
with  dangerous  and  destructive  intensity. 
This  kind  of  love  is  one  which  neither  gives, 
nor  receives,  the  happiness  for  which  love  was 
designed.  It  is  in  fact  only  a  species  of  re- 
fined selfishness,  not  less  requiring  in  its  de- 
mands, than  it  is  jealous  of  offence,  and  quick 
!  to  be  revenged,  whenever  the  interests  of  the 
beloved  one  are  supposed  to  be  invaded. 

The  nature  of  true  affection  is  diffusive 
and  benevolent.  It  possesses  the  rare  prop- 
erty of  not  being  expended  by  exercise,  nor 
weakened  by  expansion ;  and  the  mother 
who,  as  a  Christian  woman,  loves  supremely 
the  highest  object  of  all  affection,  who  lives 
in  charity  with  the  whole  human  race,  who 
loves  her  country  and  her  kindred  because 
they  are  such,  and  who  feels  that  every 
member  of  the  great  family  of  earth  has  a 
claim  upon  her  sympathy  and  her  kindness, 
is  not  more  likely  to 

"forget  the  child 
That  smiled  so  sweetly  on  her  knee," 

than  if  she  loved  that  child  alone,  and,  for  its 
sake,  excluded  from  her  bosom  all  feeling  of 
sympathy  and  affection  for  every  other  crea- 
ture in  the  world. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

HINTS   ON  EDUCATION. 

IT  has  been  said  by  Miss  Hamilton,  that 
"  to  be  truly  estimable  in  the  eyes  of  her  off- 
spring, a  mother  should  be  capable  of  educa- 
ting them  herself;"  and  certainly  where  this 
is  the  case,  the  mistress  of  a  household  gains 
much  in  her  influence  over  the  junior  mem- 
bers. Yet  there  is  too  much  reason  to  fear 


it  would  be  a  hopeless  task  with  mothers  in 
general,  to  attempt  to  persuade  them  to  un- 
dertake, more  frequently  than  they  do,  the 
practical  part  of  the  education  of  their  chil- 
dren ;  to  set  apart  one  hour,  and  no  more, 
for  the  reception  of  morning  calls ;  and  if 
one  of  the  two  departments  must  be  given 
up,  to  leave  the  kitchen  rather  than  the 
school-room,  to  the  management  of  those 
less  interested  than  themselves,  in  what  will  be 
the  result  of  the  operations  there  carried  on. 

To  such  as  may  be  disposed  to  turn  the 
exercise  of  their  talents  into  this  natural  and 
suitable  channel,  there  is  one  encouraging 
circumstance  ever  to  be  borne  in  mind,  and 
that  is,  the  incomparable  advantages  possess- 
ed by  a  mother  over  other  teachers,  in  the 
intellectual  as  well  as  the  moral  education  of 
her  children.  In  this  respect  the  concentra- 
tion of  a  mother's  interest  in  one  point,  and 
the  constancy  of  her  endeavors  to  attain  it 
through  a  length  of  time  which  has  no  defin- 
ite termination,  place  her  in  a  situation  highly 
favorable  for  undertaking  the  education  of 
her  children  ;  and  if,  in  some  respects,  she 
may  be  less  qualified  than  others,  whose 
services  may  be  obtained  by  paying  for  them, 
surely  a  mother's  love,  a  mother's  watchful- 
ness, and  a  mother's  earnest  zeal  for  the 
good  of  her  children,  might  weigh  in  the 
balance  against  a  little  extra  Latin  or  Greek. 

There  is  one  circumstance  also,  on  the 
other  side  of  the  question,  which  ought  to  be 
noticed,  though  by  no  means  unkindly,  as 
regards  the  hired  teacher,  who  looks  very 
naturally  to  an  immediate  result — to  as  much 
credit  as  can  possibly  be  obtained  by  the 
education  or  training  of  one  set  of  pupils,  ex- 
pecting always  to  have  to  pass  on  to  another 
set ;  while  the  mother  knows  that  in  her 
own  family  centres  all  her  duty,  and  if  rightly 
discharged  there,  her  reward  will  be  sure. 
To  the  hired  teacher,  each  particular  child, 
even  the  only  one  in  a  family,  and  the  pride 
of  its  mother's  heart,  constitutes  but  one 
article  in  the  general  business  of  life,  to  be 
treated  like  hundreds  of  others,  turned  over, 
and  disposed  of,  as  creditably  as  time  and 
circumstances  will  allow.  Even  to  a  serious- 


82 


TIIE  MOTHERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


minded  and  strictly  conscientious  teacher, 
deeply  sensible  of  the  responsibilities  attend- 
ant upon  the  education  of  youth,  such  a 
child  is  but  one  among  the  many,  perhaps 
neither  attractive  nor  interesting  in  itself,  and 
sometimes  requiring  the  utmost  stretch  of 
patience  and  forbearance  to  exercise  towards 
it  common  justice.  Where  such,  then,  is  all 
the  feeling  this  child  is  capable  of  inspiring 
towards  itself,  surely  the  mother's  love,  and 
the  mother's  care,  must  be  needed  to  carry 
on  its  education  to  the  best  advantage,  so 
that  it  shall  neither  be  overlooked,  despised, 
nor  set  aside  as  unworthy  of  the  attention 
which  it  is  often  so  much  more  pleasant  to 
bestow  upon  others. 

And  here  I  would  wish  to  whisper  into  the 
ear  of  partial  mothers,  if  I  could  without  of- 
fending them,  that  the  child  which  they  es- 
teem both  beautiful  and  attractive,  is  often 
neither  the  one  nor  the  other  to  an  impartial 
observer ;  that  the  raptures  which  are  ex- 
pressed by  the  company  around  the  dinner- 
table,  when  the  little  darling  is  introduced 
with  the  dessert,  are  no  sort  of  proof  that  the 
object  of  them  is  really  charming  in  itself; 
and  that  one  half  of  those  apparently  inter- 
ested inquirers,  who  ask  about  its  age,  its 
teeth,  its  walking,  and  its  peculiar  habits,  and 
who  declare  that  in  all  these  particulars  it 
surpasses  any  other  child  they  know,  or  at 
least  all  the  children  of  their  mutual  friends, 
would  say  pretty  much  the  same,  if  the  heir 
of  the  house  should  appear  toothless*  bald, 
and  shrivelled,  and  with  every  feature  of  his 
face  distorted.  I  speak  of  only  half  the  in- 
discriminate admirers  of  children,  when  I 
venture  upon  these  remarks  ;  and  when  we 
recollect  that  the  other  half  do  really  admire 
them,  from  the  impulse  which  nature  has 
kindly  given  to  so  many  human  hearts,  and 
without  the  slightest  reference  to  individual 
charms — when  we  recollect  that  there  are 
persons  who  can  scarcely  pass  a  baby  in  the 
street  without  an  inclination  to  embrace  it, 
there  is  little  indeed  left  for  the  fond  mother 
to  build  her  faith  upon,  in  the  flattering  re- 
ception with  which  her  child  is  welcomed  by 
her  guests. 


I  believe  all  mothers  are  sensible  of  the 
absurdity  of  flattery  thus  bestowed  upon  the 
children  of  their  neighbors,  and  there  are 
many  quick-sighted  and  impartial  enough  to 
detect  it  when  bestowed  upon  their  own  ; 
but,  alas !  there  are  others,  who  forget,  at 
the  very  moment  they  should  remember,  that 
their  lengthy  and  minute  details  of  the  affairs 
of  the  nursery,  are  calculated  only  for  those 
moments  of  confidential  intercourse,  in  which 
the  ear  of  true  friendship  is  not  too  severely 
tried  by  listening,  and  in  which  friendship,  in- 
deedj  would  not  deserve  the  name,  if  it  could 
not  cordially  enter  into  all  the  minutiae  of  what 
must  naturally  be  so  near  the  mother's  heart 

Making  all  due  allowance,  then,  for  the 
darling  of  the  family  being  but  an  ordinary 
child,  to  those  who  look  upon  it  with  impartial 
eyes,  we  must  leave  the  question  of  home- 
education  to  the  conscience  and  the  feelings 
of  parents,  assured  that  this  important  ques- 
tion must  ever  be  subject  to  an  endless  variety 
of  considerations,  such  as  the  individuals  con- 
cerned can  only  take  into  account ;  and  since 
there  are  occasionally  instances  of  weak  and 
injudicious  mothers,  fathers  whose  example 
is  a  hindrance  to  the  progress  of  good  educa- 
tion, houses  in  which  neither  order  nor  regu- 
larity can  be  found,  and  families  in  which  the 
world  may  be  said  to  be  their  household  god, 
we  ought  to  be  thankful  that  there  are  public 
schools  to  which  children  can  be  sent,  and 
teachers  to  be  met  with,  whose  laborious  and 
faithful  exertions  are  but  ill  requited  by  the 
small  and  grudging  pittance  usually  offered 
as  the  reward  of  their  labors. 

In  the  choice  of  a  school,  or  of  any  other 
mode  of  education,  mothers  should  be  espe- 
cially careful  to  be  clear  in  their  own  views, 
as  to  what  it  is  they  are  aiming  at  in  the  edu- 
cation of  their  children  ;  and  as  this  work  is 
addressed  particularly  to  individuals  in  the 
middle  class  of  society,  I  would  urge  upon 
them  the  importance  of  remembering,  that 
one  great  aim  in  the  education  of  this  class 
of  persons  in  England,  should  be  to  dignify 
the  sphere  of  life  to  which  they  belong,  not  to 
creep  up  into  another. 

We  are  often  told  that  a  liberal  education 


HINTS  ON  EDUCATION. 


is  wanted ;  but  we  do  not  always  understand 
what  is  meant  by  this — whether  an  education 
liberally  paid  for,  or  an  education  conducted 
upon  liberal  principles.  If  the  latter,  we 
must  bear  in  mind,  that  the  great  enemy  to 
liberal  education  is  prejudice ;  and  that  there 
are  school  prejudices — may  I  not  venture  to 
say  college  prejudices  also  ] — as  well  as  the 
prejudices  of  home. 

Again,  we  hear  of  a  genteel  education  be- 
ing wanted ;  and  when  this  is  not  likely  to  be 
acquired  at  home,  we  cannot  wonder  at  some 
pains  being  taken  to  procure  it  abroad ;  but  I 
own  I  have  wondered  that  mothers  thus  situ- 
ated, should  choose  for  their  daughters,  per- 
haps raw  girls  from  the  country,  those  high 
seminaries  in  town,  of  which  it  is  said,  by 
way  of  recommendation,  that  none  besides 
children  of  the  highest  classes  are  admitted, 
and  where  the  expenses  are  beyond  the  reach 
of  common  people.  I  have  wondered,  be- 
cause in  the  first  place,  what  must  be  the 
sufferings  of  an  awkward,  ignorant,  and 
timid  girl,  when  placed  in  such  a  situation  ? 
and  in  the  second,  after  being  drilled  into  the 
different  ceremonies  of  polite  education,  after 
having  acquired  a  taste  for  fashionable  hab- 
its, and  a  love  for  all  that  belongs  to  aristo- 
cratic life,  what  must  be  her  difficulties  on 
again  returning  to  a  home,  where  the  remem- 
brance of  these  things  can  only  be  revived  by 
the  perusal  of  court  calendars  and  novels] 

But  we  are  told — and  here  the  subject  as- 
sumes a  more  serious  character — that  a  reli- 
gious education  is  wanted  ;  and  certainly 
where  one  or  both  the  parents  of  a  family 
are  themselves  deficient  in  religious  knowl- 
edge, but  especially  where  they  are  defective 
in  religious  principle,  where,  for  instance,  the 
father  is  a  man  whose  conduct  and  conver- 
sation are  such  as  to  render  the  atmosphere 
of  home  ungenial  to  the  growth  of  religious 
feeling,  the  mother  does  wisely,  most  wisely, 
to  send  her  children  beyond  the  reach  of  such 
powerfully  contaminating  influence,  until  their 
own  characters  are  sufficiently  established, 
and  their  own  views  so  far  confirmed,  as  to 
render  it  less  likely  to  be  injurious  to  their 
best  interests. 


The  situation  of  mothers  thus  circum- 
stanced, is  one  which  claims  our  deepest, 
tenderest  sympathy  ;  and  if  for  no  other  class 
of  persons,  for  them  alone,  it  would  be  well 
worth  all  the  labor  required  by  the  routine  of 
school-learning,  and  all  the  anxiety  and  pains 
bestowed  upon  the  forming  of  different  sys- 
tems of  education,  to  provide  the  children  of 
such  parents  with  a  place  of  refuge  from  the 
many  temptations  and  disadvantages  of  their 
lot,  as  well  as  with  a  temporary  home  more 
favorable  to  the  cultivation  of  religious  prin- 
ciples than  their  own.  If  for  no  other  cla?s 
of  persons,  we  ought  to  be  thankful  for  the 
sake  of  these,  that  there  are  noble-minded  in- 
dividuals, willing  to  spend  their  talents  and 
their  time  in  the  most  laborious  of  all  occu- 
pations ;  at  the  same  time  that  it  is  one,  which, 
in  a  worldly  point  of  view,  receives  the  small- 
est portion  of  reward.  We  ought  to  be 
thankful  that  there  are  those,  who,  in  the  dis- 
charge of  this  onerous  but  sacred  duty,  yield 
to  no  prejudice  which  requires  a  compromise 
of  principle,  and  shrink  from  no  labor  which 
human  strength  can  sustain ;  but  patiently, 
faithfully,  and  without  hope  of  reward,  ex- 
cept in  a  future  state,  and  from  Him  who 
seeth  in  secret,  and  to  whom  alone  is  really 
known  the.  incalculable  difficulties  of  their 
peculiar  lot,  go  on  from  month  to  month,  and 
from  year  to  year,  sacrificing  daily,  and  sortie- 
times  nightly  rest,  nay,  almost  every  other 
personal  indulgence,  for  the  sake  of  training 
up  young  persons  from  whom  they  never  can 
receive  the  love  of  children  ;  and  for  the 
sake  of  forming  characters,  whose  highest, 
noblest,  and  most  attractive  qualifications,  will 
pass  from  under  their  view,  and  perhaps  never 
again  in  this  world  be  recognized  by  them. 

After  looking  seriously  at  the  situation  of 
mothers  who  are  really  unable  to  educate 
their  own  children,  at  the  situation  of  those 
who  cannot  hope  to  preserve  them  from  con- 
tamination at  home  ;  after  considering  the  im- 
mense responsibility  and  labor  of  those  who 
undertake  the  management  of  schools,  it 
seems  strange  that  parents  do  not  generally 
consider  it  as  part  of  their  duty,  to  see  that 
justice  is  done  in  committing  their  children 


84 


THE  MOTHERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


to  the  care  of  comparative  strangers.  It 
seems  strange  that  there  should  be  any  mo- 
thers found  so  ungenerous  and  inconsiderate 
as  to  hold  up  to  their  children  the  prospect  of 
going  to  school,  by  way  of  threatening  them 
with  a  punishment,  rather  than  indulging 
them  with  a  privilege.  Yet  so  it  is;  and 
those  who  undertake  the  most  difficult  of  all 
duties,  have  too  often  to  contend  with  a  preju- 
dice in  the  minds  of  the  young,  against  that 
mode  of  instruction  which  is  carried  on  from 
home,  or  rather,  in  other  words,  against  being 
sent  to  school.  Thus  we  often  hear  mothers 
say — "  If  you  do  not  apply  yourself  to  your 
lessons,  or  if  you  do  not  mind  what  I  say, 
you  shall  be  sent  away  to  school."  Yet  even 
this  threat  is  scarcely  so  influential  upon  the 
minds  of  children,  as  the  feasting  and  revelry 
of  home  during  the  short  season  of  holiday 
life  which  children  sent  to  school  occasionally 
enjoy,  and  which,  vhen  compared  with  the 
dull  routine  of  daily  tasks,  and  the  plain  sub- 
stantial food  it  is  necessary  to  provide  where 
many  have  to  be  fed,  during  the  rest  of  the 
year,  presents  a  contrast  by  no  means  favor- 
able to  the  scholastic  view  of  the  subject, 
though  in  reality  the  young  pupil  is  often 
happier  at  school  than  at  home. 

Indeed,  if  we  were  to  judge  of  happiness 
by  healthy,  cheerful  looks,  and  by  general 
contentment  of  appearance  and  manners,  we 
should  be  compelled  to  say,  that  school  had 
often  greatly  the  advantage  over  home  ;  for 
what  with  indulgence,  over-eating,  and  want 
of  regular  employment,  the  holiday  life  is  apt 
to  close  with  little  satisfaction  beyond  the 
feeling  that  it  has  come  to  an  end ;  while  the 
return  to  school  habits,  and  school  discipline 
again,  is  attended  with  no  other  regret,  than 
what  may  easily  be  traced  to  a  spoiled  tern- 

"-  3ff 

per,  and  a  disordered  stomach. 

But  treating  the  subject  mor6  seriously,  I 
would  ask,  Is  all  this  just,  to  those  who  take 
the  children  back  under  their  care,  about  as 
much  injured  as  it  is  possible  to  be  in  the 
space  of  time  set  apart  for  relaxation  1  Is  it 
just,  to  permit  children  to  think  that  home,  if 
they  might  but  be  permitted  to  remain  there, 
would  be  always  the  same  as  it  appears  to 


them  during  the  holidays ;  and  that  school  is 
a  place  of  punishment,  from  which  if  they 
could  but  escape,  they  should  be  always  doing 
as  they  liked,  always  eating  good  tiling?,  and 
consequently  always  happy  1  Is  it  just,  to  put 
them  upon  making  comparisons,  to  elicit 
from  them  confessions  as  to  what  they  en- 
dure in  the  way  of  privation,  what  things  are 
mean,  what  things  are  wanting  to  comfort, 
and  wherein  they  might  easily  be  more  in- 
dulged than  they  are  1  Yet  all  this  is  done 
again  and  again,  and  then  it  is  regretted  that 
children  are  not  fond  of  school. 

But  is  it  really  regretted  ]  No  ;  the  secret 
lies  here.  There  is  a  paltry  kind  of  jealousy  in 
the  minds  of  some  mothers,  lest  their  children 
should  derive  as  large  a  portion  of  enjoyment 
from  others,  as  from  themselves.  They  do 
not  wish  them  to  be  made  happy,  so  much 
as  they  wish  to  be  the  makers  of  their  hap- 
piness. They  wish,  in  fact,  that  their  chil- 
dren should  look  to  them  as  the  sole  fountain 
of  indulgence  and  pleasure ;  and  in  order  to 
accomplish  this  selfish  purpose,  they  are  will- 
ing to  assist  in  persuading  them  that  they  are 
miserable  during  ten  months  of  the  year. 

We  gladly  turn,  however,  from  the  con- 
templation of  such  practices,  to  the  situation 
of  a  mother,  who,  conscious  of  her  own  ina- 
bility to  conduct  the  intellectual  education  of 
her  children,  holds  her  trust  as  a  parent  too 
sacred,  to  permit  her  to  confide  the  whole  of 
their  moral  training  to  another.  Such  will 
doubtless  have  recourse  to  the  plan  of  en- 
gaging teachers  in  their  own  families,  in 
which  case,  the  mother,  if  she  be  a  judicious 
woman,  can  with  |he  greatest  propriety  take 
the  general  charge<KYid  oversight  of  her  chil- 
dren's education,  so  far  at  least  as  she  fully 
understands  it.  And  without  much  learning 
herself,  she  may  often  understand  with  what 
particular  faculties  her  children  are  naturally 
endowed,  in  what  respects  they  require  to 
be  urged  on,  and  in  what  restrained,  with 
many  other  points  of  the  utmost  importance 
to  be  known  in  conducting  their  education. 

The  mother  too  must  know,  or  at  any  rate 
she  ought  to  Know,  what  are  the  remote  ob- 
jects to  be  kept  in  view  in  the  training  and 


HINTS  ON  EDUCATION. 


85 


culture  of  her  children's  minds.  As  when 
one  sense,  particularly  that  of  sight,  is  defec- 
tive, some  of  the  others  may  be  quickened  to 
such  a  degree  as  to  supply  its  deficiency  ;  so, 
where  one  mental  faculty  is  defective,  the 
mother  will  be  aware  that  others  ought  to  be 
so  cultivated  as  to  supply  its  place.  She  will 
be  able  to  understand  the  difference  betwixt 
a  mere  mechanical  memory,  and  a  memory 
depending  upon  cause  and  effect ;  and  there- 
fore, when  told  that  one  of  her  chi'dren  is  a 
good  historian  because  it  remembers  dates, 
she  will  turn  with  satisfaction  to  another, 
who  is  defective  in  dates,  because  she  knows 
that  he  can  remember  the  spirit  of  the  his- 
tory he  reads. 

These  examples  are  but  specimens  of  a 
vast  variety  of  considerations  which  come 
within  the  sphere  of  a  mother's  observation, 
and  to  act  upon  which,  constitutes  an  im- 
portant part  of  maternal  duty.  Especially, 
we  must  observe  among  this  class,  the  case 
of  a  child  endowed  with  one  talent  in  an  ex- 
traordinary degree.  In  all  such  cases,  it 
gratifies  the  pride  of  the  teacher,  at  the  same 
time  that  it  affords  him  pleasure,  to  cultivate 
such  talent  to  a  great  extent.  But  the  mo- 
ther, whose  care  is  for  the  happiness  of  her 
child,  rather  than  its  renown,  who  would  not 
risk  its  safety  for  the  world's  applause,  and 
who  looks  onward  to  its  ultimate  good,  rather 
than  to  its  immediate  success — the  mother 
asks  with  fear  and  trembling — perhaps  she 
asks  with  faith  and  prayer,  what  moral  fac- 
ulty it  will  be  wisest  to  cultivate  with  pecu- 
liar attention,  so  as  best  to  preserve  her  child 
from  the  dangers  which  beset  the  path  of 
genius,  or  of  extraordinary  talent  of  any  kind. 
If  the  talent  be  for  music,  the  mother  will  be 
quick  to  feel,  that  an  attachment  to  home, 
and  interest  in  the  fireside  circle  there,  will 
be  the  best  preservation  which  human  means 
afford ;  and  if  this  talent  is  displayed  in  a 
son,  she  will  be  anxious  that  his  sisters  shall 
associate  themselves  with  him  in  the  same 
pursuit ;  she  will  listen,  when  perhaps  it  is 
not  convenient  to  her,  to  the  last  piece  he 
has  learned ;  she  will  even  ask  him  to  sing 
or  play,  when  as  a  merely  selfish  gratification 


it  is  far  from  being  what  she  would  most  de- 
sire;  and  she  will  bear  patiently  with  his 
practising  even  upon  the  violin,  rather  than 
he  should  feel  that  he  must  seek  for  sympa- 
thy among  strangers,  and  an  audience  away 
from  home. 

I  have  mentioned  music,  as  the  talent 
which  occurred  to  me  as  most  liable  to  lead 
into  temptation,  but  every  other  natural  en- 
dowment of  a  high  and  distinguished  char- 
acter may  be  studiously  preserved  from  dan- 
ger in  the  same  manner  as  this  ;  and  it  is 
only  to  the  mother  that  we  can  look  for  the 
discharge  of  this  important  trust  It  is  only 
to  the  mother  that  we  can  look  for  the  gene- 
ral character  of  her  child.  Education  may 
be  well  paid  for,  lessons  may  be  regular,  and 
teachers  highly  approved,  but  when  all  the 
different  branches  of  learning  have  been 
taught  by  separate  masters,  the  character  of 
the  child  will  still  be  demanded  at  the  mo- 
ther's hand. 

But  we  are  told  again  that  a  religious  edu- 
cation is  what  the  mother  wishes  to  insure, 
in  sending  her  children  to  school ;  and  cer- 
tainly where  some  of  those  disadvantages 
prevail  at  home,  to  which  allusion  has  al- 
ready been  made,  she  does  well  in  placing 
them  under  more  efficient  care,  or  in  circum- 
stances where  they  will  be  less  exposed  to 
temptation.  There  are,  however,  many  ex- 
cellent mothers,  whose  own  care  one  would 
suppose  likely  to  be  more  efficient  in  this  re- 
spect, than  it  is  possible  for  that  of  any  super- 
intendent of  a  school  to  be ;  and  here  is  one 
of  those  strange  anomalies  which  often 
startle  us  into  astonishment  at  the  various 
contradictions  presented  by  human  nature — 
that  a  pious  mother,  truly  and  deeply  solicit- 
ous for  the  best  interests  of  her  children — a 
mother  to  whom  religion  is  indeed  the  one 
thing  needful,  whose  early  training  of  her 
family  has  been  watchful  and  scrupulous, 
and  whose  prayers  are  offered  up  with 
trembling  earnestness  that  no  rude  wind 
may  blight  the  blossoms  of  bright  promise 
already  opening  in  the  young  minds  com- 
mitted to  her  care — that  such  a  mother 
should  be  willing — nay,  anxious  to  commit 


86 


THE  MOTHERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


her  children  to  the  charge  of  comparative 
strangers,  who  must  necessarily  commence 
the  arduous  task  of  educating  them  for  time 
and  for  eternity,  without  that  one  great  qual- 
ification by  which  she  has  been  especially 
fitted  for  the  work — without  a  parent's  love. 

Nor  is  this  all.  The  mother  knows  what 
characters,  and  tempers,  what  habits,  conver- 
sation, and  even  what  thoughts,  engage  the 
attention  or  occupy  the  minds  of  those  who 
meet  around  her  own  fireside.  She  knows 
in  short  what  elements  compose  the  moral 
atmosphere  of  home.  They  may  not  all  be 
pure,  they  may  not  all  be  healthy,  but  still 
she  knows  what  they  are,  and  how  they 
combine  with,  oppose,  or  operate  upon,  each 
other.  In  a  school  composed  of  ten,  twenty, 
or  fifty  children,  neither  the  mother  nor  any 
any  one  else  can  know  this,  because  the  very 
system  of  school  discipline  precludes  the 
possibility  of  that  close  and  long-continued 
intimacy  which  prevails  in  private  families ; 
it  must  therefore  be  a  work  of  faith,  and 
that  of  no  common  order,  to  believe  that  the 
moral  atmosphere  of  schools  will  contain 
nothing  injurious,  or  even  less  than  is  con- 
tained in  that  of  home. 

It  is  a  great  sacrifice  for  natural  love  to 
make,  for  that  instinctive  attachment  which 
is  fed  by  caresses,  and  which  lives  in  the 
presence  of  the  beloved  object, — it  is  a  great 
sacrifice  even  for  maternal  affection  to  make, 
when  a  mother  sends  away  a  hopeful  and 
lovely  child  for  months,  and  years,  in  the 
fresh  spring-time  of  its  existence,  when  each 
day  unfolds  some  opening  bud,  and  each 
year  brings  forth  some  ripening  fruit  She 
would  hardly  treat  her  garden  in  this  man- 
ner. If  she  wished  it  to  be  as  beautiful  as 
care  and  culture  could  make  it,  she  would 
hardly  let  it  out  for  years,  and  allow  strangers 
to  have  all  the  responsibility  of  making  it 
what  it  ought  to  be,  while  upon  them  would 
be  wasted  all  its  sweets.  She  would  hardly 
give  this  garden  up  while  all  its  plants  were 
tender,  and  required  the  greatest  care ;  while 
all  its  bowers  and  beds,  and  pleasant  walks, 
and  spots  of  beauty,  were  being  planned,  laid 
out,  and  cultivated,  only  to  resume  her  right 


to  the  possession  of  it,  when  all  was  finished, 
when  the  plants  had  taken  deep  and  lasting 
root,  and  the  trees  had  grown  to  a  stately 
height,  after  the  manner  of  the  bending  of 
the  early  twig.  Even  in  her  garden,  though 
workmen  might  be  employed  in  various  de- 
partments of  cultivation,  the  mother's  enjoy- 
ment would  be  to  be  always  on  the  spot,  to 
take  the  direction  of  the  whole,  to  see  that 
the  gardeners  did  their  duty  ;  but  especially 
to  luxuriate  in  the  perpetual  delight  which 
the  progress  and  the  beauty  of  that  garden 
would  afford.  Truly  it  is  a  mystery  beyond 
solution,  that  a  fond  mother  should  prefer 
sending  her  children  away  from  home,  to 
pursue  their  education  entirely  under  the 
care  of  strangers  ! 

But  the  greatest  mystery  is  yet  to  come. 
What  is  the  religious  education  of  a  child  1 
Some  persons  appear  to  think  it  consists  en- 
tirely in  imparting  instruction,  or  storing  its 
memory  with  religious  knowledge  ;  and  cer- 
tainly, as  far  as  knowledge  goes,  this  is  a 
most  important  part-of  religious  education  ; 
but  then  it  is  only  a  part.  To  be  educated 
for  a  profession,  an  art,  or  a  business,  is  to 
learn  to  practise  it ;  and  above  every  other 
profession,  it  is  so  with  that  of  religion.  It  is 
the  custom  in  some  parts  of  Germany,  to 
have  religion  masters  attend  young  people  at 
certain  hours  during  the  progress  of  their 
education,  and  the  religious  education  of 
schools  must  necessarily,  to  a  certain  extent, 
resemble  this ;  while  that  of  home  may  be 
adapted  to  every  peculiarity  of  character,  as 
well  as  to  all  those  changes  in  the  tone  and 
the  temper  of  the  mind,  by  which  young 
persons  are  rendered  more  or  less  suscepti- 
ble of  impression.  How  is  it,  then,  that  the 
pious  mother  can  willingly  resign  those  pre- 
cious moments  of  familiar  intercourse  be- 
tween herself  and  her  child,  when  the  fear 
of  shame  is  lost  sight  of  in  the  confidence  of 
love,  and  it  spreads  before  her — legible  pet- 
haps  to  no  other  eye — the  little  tablet  of  its 
half-formed  thoughts,  and  asks  and  hears 
about  the  things  of  heaven  ?  How  is  it  she 
can  bear  to  think,  that  when  ill  or  sorrowful, 
perhaps  buffeted  by  strangers,  perhaps  un- 


HINTS  OX  EDUCATION. 


kindly  treated  by  companions  rude  in  thought 
and  act,  perhaps  guilty,  punished,  and  peni- 
tent, it  sinks  weeping  upon  its  little  couch  at 
night,  and  wonders  whether  indeed  the  great 
God  of  heaven  and  earth  is  really  kind  ; — 
how  can  she  bear  to  think  that  no  one  comes 
to  lay  a  fond  protecting  hand  upon  its  brow, 
to  sing  the  hymn  of  peace,  or  to  tell  of  a 
blessed  Saviour  who  took  little  children  in  his 
arms,  and  said  that  of  such  was  the  kingdom 
of  his  Father  1 

Beyond  such  thoughts,  which  one  would 
naturally  suppose  might  present  themselves 
with  intense  interest,  and  in  endless  variety,  to 
the  mind  of  the  fond  mother,  there  are  consid- 
erations with  regard  to  the  peculiarities  of  a 
child,  which,  if  duly  considered,  would  al- 
ways operate  against  a  system  of  education 
carried  on  at  public  schools.  I  mean  the  pe- 
culiar characteristics  of  children,  one  requir- 
ing a  mode  of  treatment  so  different  from 
another.  As  relates  to  lessons,  and  mere 
learning,  this  is  perhaps  less  necessary  to  be 
considered  ;  but  as  relates  to  religious  edu- 
cation, it  is  of  immense  importance,  since 
there  are  scarcely  two  human  minds  so  con- 
stituted, as  to  be  seriously  impressed  in  ex- 
actly the  same  manner ;  or,  we  might  add, 
likely  to  be  impressed  at  the  same  time  ;  for 
there  is  as  much  in  fitness  of  time  for  re- 
ceiving, as  in  fitness  of  means  for  imparting, 
religious  instruction.  It  is  therefore  the  mo- 
ther alone,  with  her  faithful  watching,  her  in- 
stinctive perceptions,  and  her  fervent  zeal 
for  the  everlasting  welfare  of  her  child,  who 
is  fully  qualified  to  use  to  the  best  advantage, 
all  the  means  which  a  kind  Providence  has 
placed  in  her  hands,  for  the  religious  educa- 
tion of  her  children. 

With  these  remarks,  and  with  an  assurance 
to  the  mothers  of  England  that  I  have  no 
wish  to  do  more  than  suggest  ideas  for  their 
consideration,  and  by  no  means  would  pre- 
sume either  to  dictate  or  to  judge  respecting 
their  duties  on  this  important  subject,  I  will 
close  my  observations  by  quoting,  at  consid- 
erable length,  an  admirable  summary  of  the 
advantages  to  be  derived  from  children  being 
educated  under  the  eye  of  their  parents. 


These  remarks  occur  in  "  Home  Education," 
a  work  which  all  mothers,  who  doubt  the  de- 
sirableness of  sending  their  children  to  school, 
would  do  well  to  peruse;  for  though  they 
will  see,  as  many  have  done,  that  the  system 
of  education  recommended  there,  would  re- 
quire advantages  of  a  domestic  character, 
and  qualifications  on  the  part  of  the  mother, 
far  beyond  what  it  is  the  privilege  of  most 
families  to  enjoy,  there  are  admirable  pas- 
sages, and  valuable  and  useful  hints,  which 
may  be  rendered  highly  serviceable  in  giving 
the  subject  a  serious  and  impartial  consider- 
ation. 

"I  wish,  then,"  says  the  author  of  "Home 
Education,"  after  many  excellent  remarks  on 
the  subject,  "  briefly  to  point  out  the  probable 
influence  upon  the  country,  of  the  preva- 
lence, to  some  extent,  of  home  education ; 
and  what  I  mean  to  affirm  is  this— that,  even 
if  schools,  and  large  schools,  were  granted  to 
be  generally  better  adapted  to  the  practical 
ends  of  education  than  private  instruction, 
and  that  the  majority  of  all  ranks  should 
receive  their  mental  culture  in  that  mode ; 
nevertheless,  that  the  welfare  of  society,  on 
the  whole,  demands  the  prevalence,  to  some 
considerable  extent,  of  the  other  method  ; 
and  that  a  portion  of  the  community — a  por- 
tion of  every  rank  of  the  middle  and  upper 
classes  especially,  should  come  under  that 
very  different  and  more  intimate  process  of 
culture  of  which  home  must  be  the  scene. 
The  school- bred  man  is  of  one  sort — the 
home-bred  man  is  of  another  ;  and  the  com- 
munity has  need  of  both :  nor  could  any 
measures  be  much  more  to  be  deprecated, 
nor  any  tyranny  of  fashion  more  to  be  re- 
sisted, than  such  as  should  render  a  public 
education,  from  first  to  last,  compulsory  and 
universal. 

"  It  is  found,  in  fact,  that  a  quiet,  but  firm 
individuality — a  self-originating  steadiness  of 
purpose,  a  thoughtful  intensity  of  sentiment, 
and  a  passive  power,  such  as  stems  the  tide 
of  fashion  and  frivolous  opinions,  belong,  as 
their  characteristics,  to  home-bred  men  ;  and 
especially  to  such  of  this  class  as  are  self- 
taught.  Now  we  affirm  that,  whatever  may 


THE  MOTHERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


sometimes  be  the  rigidness  or  the  uncompli- 
ant sternness  of  men  of  this  stamp,  a  serious, 
and  perhaps  a  fatal  damage  would  be  sus- 
tained by  the  community,  if  entirely  deprived 
of  the  moral  and  political  element  which  they 
bring  into  the  mass.  As  the  social  machinery 
must  come  to  a  stand  if  all  possessed  so  fixed 
an  individuality  as  to  think  and  act  without 
regard  to  the  general  bias  of  opinion ;  so 
would  it  acquire  too  much  momentum,  if 
none  were  distinguished  by  habits  of  feeling 
springing  from  themselves. 

"  In  schools,  and  especially  in  large  schools, 
the  two  lessons  learned  by  boys — sometimes 
by  two  classes  of  tempers,  and  often  by  the 
same  individuals  at  different  stages  of  their 
course — are  the  lesson  of  domination,  and 
the  lesson  of  abject  compliance  with  tyranny. 
Even  the  degree  in  which,  of  late,  public  at- 
tention has  been  directed  towards  the  evils 
wlience  so  much  mischief  has  been  proved 
to  arise,  has  not  availed  to  alleviate  them 
more  than  to  a  very  small  amount ;  nor  can 
it  be  doubted  but  that  the  habit  of  tyrannizing, 
as  well  as  the  habit  of  yielding  servile  sub- 
mission, notwithstanding  the  correction  they 
may  receive  on  entering  upon  life,  will,  more 
or  less,  continue  to  affect  the  dispositions  of 
men,  and  must  in  a  real,  if  not  in  a  very  con- 
spicuous manner,  exert  an  influence  over 
the  political  temper  and  movements  of  the 
community. 

"  But  a  very  different  class  of  feeling  be- 
longs to  young  persons  educated  at  home, 
and  who,  although  perhaps  they  may  not  be 
prompt  to  contend  for  the  foremost  positions 
in  society,  are  wholly  unprepared  to  cringe 
before  arrogance  and  oppression.  They  have 
moreover  acquired  in  seclusion  that  decisive 
individuality  of  temper  which  impels  them 
on  all  occasions  to  search  for  a  reason  satis- 
factory to  themselves,  before  they  bow  to  the 
dictates  of  those  who  have  no  right  to  their 
submission.  Moreover,  the  bosoms  of  young 
persons  who  have  been  well  trained  around 
the  gentle  influences  of  the  domestic  circle, 
and  have  lived  in  the  intimacy  of  intelligent 


and  ingenuous  parents,  and  of  other  adults, 
are  likely  to  be  fraught  with  profound  and 
delicate  sentiments — with  the  love  of  truth, 
of  justice,  and  of  honor;  and  they  are,  there- 
fore, equally  disinclined  either  to  exercise 
despotism,  or  to  yield  to  it  Young  men  so 
nurtured  under  the  paternal  roof,  when,  for 
the  first  time,  they  encounter  the  rude  wilful- 
ness  and  the  selfish  violence  of  vulgar  spirits 
in  the  open  world,  may  perhaps  recoil,  and 
be  tempted  to  leave  the  field  in  disgust ;  but 
they  presently  (if  not  naturally  feeble-minded) 
recover  their  self-possession,  and  place  their 
foot  firmly  in  the  path  where  what  is  just  and 
good  is  to  be  maintained  against  insolent 
power. 

"  The  substantial  liberties  of  a  community 
involve  much  more  than  the  bare  protection 
of  persons  and  chattels ;  for  there  is  a  liberty 
of  thought  and  of  speech  which  may  be  cur- 
tailed, or  almost  destroyed,  in  countries  that 
are  the  loudest  in  boasting  their  freedom. 
There  is  a  liberty,  moral  and  intellectual — 
the  true  glory  of  a  people — which  consists  in, 
and  demands  the  unrestrained  expansion  of 
all  faculties,  the  exercise  of  all  talents,  and 
the  spontaneous  expression  of  all  diversities 
of  taste,  and  of  all  forms  of  individuality. 
But  this  high  liberty  of  mind,  forfeited  often 
in  the  very  struggle  of  nations  to  secure  or 
to  extend  political  liberty,  must  assuredly  be 
favored  by  whatever  cherishes  distinctness 
of  character ;  and  it  must  as  certainly  be  en- 
dangered by  whatever  breaks  down  individ- 
uality, and  tends  to  impose  uniformity  upon 
the  whole. 

"  In  this  view,  a  systematic  Home  Educa- 
tion may  fairly  claim  no  trivial  importance, 
as  a  means  of  sending  forth  among  the  school- 
bred  majority,  those  with  whose  habits  of 
mind  there  is  mingled  a  firm  and  modest 
sentiment  of  self-respect — not  cynical,  but 
yet  unconquerable — resting,  as  it  will,  upon 
the  steady  basis  of  personal  wisdom  and 
virtue.  It  is  men  of  this  stamp  who  will 
be  the  true  conservators  of  their  country's 
freedom." 


ON  THE  TRAINING  OF  BOYS. 


CHAPTER  X. 

ON   THE   TRAIXEN'G   OF  BOYS. 

IT  is  scarcely  possible  to  look  at  the  head- 
ing of  this  chapter,  without  being  struck  with 
the  wide  range  of  important  considerations 
which  it  necessarily  embraces.  The  sphere 
in  which  man  has  to  act,  is  not  more  differ- 
ent from  that  in  which  woman  finds  her  ap- 
pointed duties,  than  the  constitution  of  the 
mind  of  one  is  from  that  of  the  other.  I  say 
nothing  here  about  superiority  in  one,  and 
inferiority  in  the  other;  because  I  consider 
that  to  be  an  idle  question,  since  nothing  can 
be  good,  and  consequently  nothing  can  be 
superior,  except  in  proportion  as  it  answers 
the  end  for  which  it  was  created.  There  are 
writers,  however,  and  not  a  few,  in  the  pres- 
ent day,  who  maintain  that  both  have  equal 
powers,  and  are  fitted  for  the  same  field  of 
action. 

Without  endeavoring  to  combat  an  opinion 
so  opposed  at  once  to  nature  and  religion,  to 
philosophy  and  common  sense,  I  would  just 
ask,  whether  women,  who  faithfully  perform 
their  duties,  have  not  at  present  enough  to 
do  in  their  accustomed  and  familiar  place  1 
If  mothers,  wives,  and  mistresses  of  houses, 
have  already  enough  to  do  as  women,  the 
inference  is  plain,  that  in  proportion  as  they 
assume  the  duties  of  men,  the  nobler  sex 
must  be  willing  to  take  part  in  theirs,  other- 
wise there  must  be  a  loss  of  useful  exertion 
in  that  department  where  it  cannot  well  be 
spared.  Wishing,  therefore,  to  every  man 
who  advocates  the  ability  and  fitness  of  wo- 
men to  take  part  with  men  on  equal  terms  in 
all  public  affairs,  no  worse  wish,  than  that  he 
may  have  a  wife  a  member  of  parliament, 
and  he  himself  obliged  to  stay  at  home  and 
darn  stockings ;  I  will  leave  this  subject  with 
a  short  but  appropriate  passage  from  Miss 
Edgeworth,  where,  in  speaking  of  temper, 
the  author  alludes  to  the  appropriate  position 
of  woman,  in  her  usually  clear  and  forcible 
style : 

"A  man  in  a  furious  passion  is  terrible  to 
his  enemies,  but  a  woman  in  a  passion  is 


disgusting  to  her  friends ;  she  loses  the  respect 
due  to  her  sex,  and  she  has  not  masculine 
strength  and  courage  to  enforce  any  other 
species  of  respect  These  circumstances 
should  be  considered  by  writers  who  advise 
that  no  difference  should  be  made  in  the 
education  of  the  two  sexes.  We  cannot  help 
thinking  that  their  happiness  is  of  more  con- 
sequence than  their  speculative  rights ;  and 
we  wish  to  educate  women  so  that  they  may 
be  happy  in  the  situations  in  which  they  are 
most  likely  to  be  placed." 

I  repeat,  then,  that  to  me  nothing  appears 
more  obvious,  than  that  the  Allwise  Disposer 
of  human  events  has  given  to  man  a  widely 
different  range  of  duty  from  that  which  is 
appointed  for  woman ;  and  that  in  order  to 
fit  him  for  his  situation,  he  has  been  en- 
dowed with  peculiar  capabilities  of  mind, 
which  it  is  the  important  business  of  the 
mother  to  examine  and  consider,  so  as  to 
turn  to  the  best  account ;  for  it  must  ever  be 
borne  in  mind,  by  those  who  undertake  the 
training  of  youth,  that  they  have  not  to  create 
materials  for  character,  but  to  use  such  as 
nature  has  placed  in  their  hands  to  the  best 
purpose. 

In  the  first  place,  why  are  boys  so  mis- 
chievous, disorderly,  and  troublesome  1  Not, 
certainly,  as  one  might  be  sometimes  almost 
tempted  to  suppose,  because  they  are  created 
for  the  purpose  of  trying  other  people's  pa- 
tience ;  but  because  they  have  a  superabun- 
dance of  mental  and  bodily  energy,  which 
must  find  exercise  in  one  way  or  another. 
Nor  would  we  wish  to  see  them  without  this 
energy.  The  mother  who  complains  of  her 
boys,  that  they  will  neither  be  quiet  them- 
selves, nor  allow  other  people  to  be  so,  who 
is  perpetually  teasing  them  to  sit  still,  and  be 
good  boys,  little  thinks  what  she  is  about ; 
for  without  this  restless  and  energetic  prin- 
ciple in  their  nature,  where  would  be  the 
man  of  enterprise,  where  would  be  the  travel- 
ler, the  engineer,  the  statesman,  or  the  phi- 
losopher 1  for  there  is  an  earnest  perseve- 
rance, and  an  intensity  of  thought,  which 
requires  as  much  energy  to  maintain,  on  the 
part  of  the  philosopher,  as  is  required  on  that 


90 


THE  MOTHERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


of  the  discoverer  of  a  new  island  in  a  distant 
region  of  the  globe. 

Nor  must  we  forget  that,  especially  in  the 
present  day,  there  is  enterprise  required  in 
almost  every  undertaking  to  which  the  ener- 
gies of  man  can  be  directed  ;  and  he  who  in 
his  early  years  has  done  little  but  sit  still  to 
be  a  good  boy,  would  be  likely,  as  our  worldly 
affairs  are  now  conducted,  to  be  left  sitting 
alone,  after  all  his  companions  had  marched 
onward  in  pursuit  of  their  different  objects  of 
interest  or  importance.  What  is  necessary 
then  to  be  done  with  boys,  is  to  use  up  their 
energies,  so  that  nothing  shall  run  to  waste ; 
so  that  there  shall  in  fact  be  no  overflow  into 
those  streams  of  mischief  and  disorder,  which 
sometimes  threaten  to  overwhelm  and  destroy 
the  peace  of  a  whole  household. 

The  mother's  care  and  ingenuity,  however, 
are  much  needed  here.  It  is  not  dry  lessons 
and  mere  learning,  though  these  are  good  so 
far  as  they  go,  which  constitute  the  sum  total 
of  what  is  required.  These  very  properly 
occupy  the  time  and  the  attention,  but  they 
do  not  satisfy  that  restless  craving  for  ex- 
citement, nor  employ  that  internal  stimulus, 
which  are  perpetually  urging  a  boy  to  build 
up  or  break  down,  to  help  or  to  hinder,  and 
to  please  or  to  vex,  as  circumstances  and  the 
humor  of  the  moment  may  direct  But  why, 
with  all  this  impetuous  desire  for  action, 
should  not  boys  be  made  useful  in  a  family  ? 
For  my  own  part,  I  never  could  imagine  why 
little  girls  were  to  fetch  and  carry,  and  to  do 
all  the  other  business  of  domestic  usefulness 
necessary  to  fireside  comfort,  while  boys  sat 
still,  and  fancied  themselves  into  lords  of  the 
creation  ;  and  I  am  now  convinced  it  is  more 
the  fault  of  early  training,  than  of  any  natural 
peculiarity  of  their  own  characters,  where  the 
brothers  in  a  family  are  selfish  and  unac- 
commodating towards  their  sisters.  I  am 
convinced  that  where  boys  are  so  rationally 
taught  as  not  to  regard  it  as  a  degradation, 
there  are  many  occupations  in  a  household 
by  which  they  may  occasionally  be  made 
happy  and  useful  at  the  same  time ;  and  as 
no  man  ever  was  the  worse  for  knowing  how 
to  use  his  hands,  there  would  by  this  mode 


of  training  be  many  a  traveller  sent  forth, 
many  an  emigrant,  and  many  a  missionary, 
better  qualified  than  they  now  are  to  cope 
with  the  difficulties  of  life,  and  relieved  of 
much  of  the  annoyance  and  distress  which 
the  usages  of  different  countries  are  apt  at 
first  to  occasion. 

But  the  influence  of  a  mother  with  regard 
to  the  training  of  boys  is  so  much  more  im- 
portant in  a  moral  and  religious  point  of  view 
than  in  any  other,  that  I  shall  confine  my  ob- 
servations chiefly  to  those  cases  in  which  a 
boy  is  likely  to  be  made  better,  rather  than 
to  those  in  which  he  may  be  made  wiser,  by 
his  mother.  And  this,  I  need  hardly  repeat, 
is  not  to  be  done  by  making  him  sit  still.  No  ; 
there  is  a  great  deal  more  than  this  to  be 
done,  before  the  mother  and  her  son  can  pass 
along  the  journey  of  life,  a  mutual  support 
and  comfort  to  each  other ;  but  let  the  mother 
do  her  part  with  judgment,  feeling,  and  right 
principle,  and  she  may  effectually  establish 
between  herself  and  her  son,  a  relationship 
of  sentiment  as  well  as  kindred — a  relation- 
ship which  has  nothing  in  this  world  to  com- 
pare with  it,  for  the  tenderness  of  its  associa- 
tions, the  intensity  of  its  interests,  and  the 
sacred  influence  it  is  calculated  to  exercise. 

Whether  we  contemplate  the  character  of 
a  beloved  and  honored  mother,  checking  by 
soft  yet  patient  words  the  wild  sports  of  boy- 
hood, and  winning  by  her  gentleness,  where 
it  would  be  impossible  to  control  by  mere 
authority  ;  or  whether  we  look  at  the  aged 
matron  bending  on  her  journey  towards  the 
grave,  bereft  perhaps  of  every  other  earthly 
stay,  except  the  faithful  arm  of  her  devoted 
son ;  when  we  see  that  to  him,  all  full  of  life 
and  hope  and  animation  as  he  is,  her  vener- 
able form  is  still  lovely,  simply  because  it  is 
his  mother's ;  that  her  voice  is  still  sweet, 
because  it  is  the  same  which  spoke  to  him 
in  childhood,  calling  him  back  from  danger, 
and  luring  him  into  paths  of  safety  when  his 
boyish  waywardness  might  have  made  ship- 
wreck of  his  pe^ce  ;  and  when  we  know  that 
her  influence  is  still  the  same — nay,  more, 
because,  though  trembling,  feeble,  and  de- 
pendent, as  regards  the  things  of  time,  she 


ON  THE  TRAINING  OF  BOYS. 


91 


is  already  on  the  borders  of  that  eternity  for 
which  it  has  been  the  study  of  her  life  to  pre- 
pare herself  and  him — when  we  see  all  this 
so  beautifully  illustrated,  as  it  is  sometimes 
in  the  intercourse  of  the  mother  and  her  son, 
it  is  with  no  common  feeling  that  we  breathe 
the  wish,  with  regard  to  mothers  in  general, 
that  they  should  so  estimate  and  use  their 
capabilities,  as  to  bind  themselves  by  a  union 
so  sacred  to  the  interests  and  affections  of 
their  sons. 

And  after  all,  boys  are  not  so  difficult  to 
deal  with  as  some  persons  are  apt  to  suppose, 
provided  only  a  mother  is  willing  to  make  the 
necessary  sacrifice.  Indeed  it  is  a  generally 
acknowledged  fact,  that  where  judiciously 
treated,  they  are  more  manageable  under  fe- 
male influence,  than  under  any  other.  In  the 
first  place,  then,  let  it  be  remembered,  that 
boys  must  be  humored  to  a  certain  extent. 
Both  boys  and  men  require  this,  and  they 
have  a  right  to  expect  it  from  women.  Some 
parents  appear  to  think  that  by  the  exercise 
of  direct  authority,  they  can  prevent  their 
sons  seeking  unsuitable  amusements,  and  as- 
sociates not  to  be  approved  ;  but  I  have  no 
hesitation  in  saying,  that  this  method  of  man- 
aging boys  never  did  answer  the  purpose 
fully,  and  never  will.  No;  that  restless  ac- 
tivity, which  is  a  part  of  their  nature,  and 
which  if  rightly  directed  is  one  of  the  most 
valuable  characteristics  they  possess,  must 
find  exercise  somewhere  ;  and  unless  pro- 
vided with  a  lawful  and  sufficient  substitute, 
will  recur,  perhaps  in  secret,  to  the  enjoy- 
ment of  forbidden  things.  Unless,  therefore, 
a  boy  is  to  some  extent  humored,  or  amused, 
and  made  happy  in  the  parlor  with  his  pa- 
rents, he  will  be  in  danger  of  seeking  the  ex- 
citement and  interest  which  his  natural  tem- 
perament demands,  in  the  kitchen  or  the 
stable,  if  not  entirely  away  from  home. 

Boys  also,  are  in  reality  more  social,  than 
is  sometimes  supposed.  They  are  said  to  do 
very  well  if  turned  out  of  the  room,  elbowed 
off,  or  made  to  play  by  themselves;  but  it  is 
only  because  they  cannot  do  better ;  for  no 
one  is  more  pleased  or  more  thankful  than 
an  amiable  boy,  when  any  kind  interest  is 


taken  in  his  occupations  and  pursuits.  No 
one  is  more  pleased  either,  when  the  female 
part  of  the  family  can  be  induced  to  join  in 
these ;  and  the  promise  of  a  mother  or  a  sis- 
ter to  let  themselves  be  rowed  round  an 
island,  or  driven  in  a  pony-chase,  is  often 
long  remembered  by  a  boy,  and  prepared  for 
with  a  kind  of  natural  politeness,  which  is 
almost  irresistible  to  the  heart  of  woman,  be- 
cause, unlike  much  of  the  politeness  of  the 
world,  it  is  at  once  both  flattering  and  sincere. 

It  is  only  by  the  sacrifice  of  a  little  time, 
and  occasionally,  it  must  be  confessed,  a  little 
patience,  that  a  mother  can  gain  upon  her 
sons  in  the  manner  I  would  so  earnestly 
recommend  ;  and  if  the  love  of  a  mother  is 
not  sufficient  to  help  her  through  the  little 
difficulties  that  may  arise,  she  has  an  abun- 
dant reward  in  the  feeling,  that  by  associa- 
ting herself  with  boys  in  their  pleasures  and 
amusements,  by  even  studying  to  amuse  and 
interest  them  herself,  she  is  not  only  culti- 
vating a  more  intimate  acquaintance  with 
their  real  characters,  than  could  be  obtained 
in  any  other  way  ;  but  is  in  reality  rendering 
herself  an  object  of  interest— of  delight — nay, 
almost  of  beauty  to  them;  since  whatever 
charms  and  endears,  becomes  beautiful  to 
the  eye  of  affection. 

I  repeat,  for  it  cannot  be  too  much  im- 
pressed upon  the  minds  of  women,  that  both 
men  and  boys  must  be  humored.  A  mother 
begins  the  training  of  her  boys  with  the  un- 
paralleled advantage  of  natural  affection ; 
but  beyond  this,  and  as  soon  as  it  gives  place 
to  thoughts  of  a  more  mature  and  calcula- 
ting nature,  she  must  begin  to  charm — she 
must  be  absolutely  delightful  in  the  opinion 
of  her  sons,  in  order  to  possess  unbounded 
influence  over  them.  This,  however,  we 
must  be  sure  to  bear  in  mind,  is  not  to  be  ob- 
tained by  unbounded  indulgence  ;  and  here 
lies  the  great  secret  of  managing  boys ;  for 
there  must  be,  on  the  part  of  the  mother,  an 
exercise  of  the  most  strict  and  unyielding  au- 
thority with  regard  to  all  household  rules, 
and  indeed  with  regard  to  all  things  of  im- 
portance, combined  with  a  certain  kind  of 
playfulness,  vivacity,  and  tact,  in  order,  as  I 


92 


THE  MOTHERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


have  already  said,  to  charm,  as  well  as  to  in- 
fluence. 

Again ;  boys  are  excessively  fond  of  what 
certain  wise  people  would  call  nonsense  :  but 
what  is  called  nonsense,  is  not  always  folly ; 
and  there  is  often  much  development  of 
character,  and  much  eliciting  of  good  taste 
and  right  feeling,  in  the  playful  familiarity  of 
a  family  united  in  all  its  members.  At  all 
events,  the  boys,  whose  ambition  it  is  to  share 
their  laughter  and  their  frolic  with  their  mo- 
ther, will  establish  for  themselves,  if  she  be  a 
right-minded  woman,  a  rule  of  safety,  for 
which  she  ought  indeed  to  be  most  thankful ; 
for  the  young  man  who  can  be  trusted  in  his 
mirth,  neither  to  go  too  far,  nor  choose  for  it 
a  wrong  object,  and  who  is  in  no  danger  of 
being  betrayed  by  excitement  into  the  indul- 
gence of  any  wrong  feeling,  may  indeed  be 
said  to  have  reaped  no  trifling  advantage 
from  the  society  of  his  mother. 

Whether  young  or  old,  there  is  something 
in  the  nature  of  man,  which  is,  to  a  certain 
extent,  repelled  by  his  own  sex,  and  which 
requires  association  with  the  gentler  nature 
of  woman.  Noisy  and  boisterous  as  boys 
may  be,  they  are  not  always  happy,  and  not 
always  sufficient  of  themselves  for  their  own 
enjoyment  They  have  their  difficulties, 
their  trials,  and  their  moments  of  depression  ; 
and  to  whom  are  they  then  to  go  but  to  their 
mother  ?  Yet  how,  if  she  has  never  shared 
their  pleasures,  is  she  to  be  the  confidant  of 
their  sorrows  1  No  ;  it  is  not  a  little  time 
wasted,  as  she  might  call  it,  a  little  sewing 
laid  aside,  a  little  housekeeping  neglected,  nor 
(.•veil  a  party  given  up,  that  can,  by  a  right- 
minded  woman,  be  considered  a  sacrifice  too 
great  to  make,  in  order  to  obtain  the  entire 
and  unbounded  confidence  of  her  children  ; 
and  deep  and  rich  is  her  reward,  if,  by  such 
sacrifices,  she  can  arrive  at  the  blessed  cer- 
tainty that  they  will  conceal  nothing  from  her 
-^not  even  the  confession  of  their  guilt,  when 
they  have  done  wrong.  Though  all  the 
world  should  blame  them,  and  though  she 
herself  should  blame  them  more  than  all  the 
world,  there  ought  to  be  a  feeling  in  the  mind 
of  a  son  towards  his  mother,  that  with  her 


severest  rebuke,  will  be  blended  a  sympathy 
more  intense  than  he  could  find  elsewhere. 

In  those  minute  and  familiar  observations 
which  from  time  to  time  all  persons  make 
upon  social  and  domestic  life,  one  thing  has 
struck  me  very  forcibly,  and  that  is,  that  in 
the  training  of  children,  we  all  endeavor  too 
much  to  put  in  practice  the  corrective  pro- 
cess, and  think  too  little  of  the  preventive. 
Many  mothers  who  are  most  exemplary  in 
the  treatment  of  their  children  after  they 
have  done  wrong,  spend  comparatively  little 
thought  upon  how  to  induce  them  to  do 
right  To  preoccupy  the  mind  with  good, 
and  to  form  the  character  of  children  upon 
right  principles,  I  believe  to  be  the  holiest 
duty  of  a  mother,  at  the  same  time  that  it  is 
the  happiest ;  for  though  there  may  often  be 
sweet  seasons  of  endearment  after  the  young 
heart  has  been  thrown  open  by  convictions 
of  guilt,  and  softened  by  penitence,  the  less 
frequently  such  seasons  have  to  occur,  the 
better  it  is  for  all  parties. 

I  mention  this  view  of  the  subject  particu- 
larly here,  because  it  is  more  especially  with 
boys,  that  mothers  appear  to  disregard  this 
early  and  sacred  duty  ;  and  when  they  find 
they  have  no  influence  over  them,  .or  think 
the  whole  affair  of  management  too  trouble- 
some to  undertake,  they  come  in  time  to  re- 
gard their  boys  as  wholly  intractable,  and 
thus  give  them  up,  until  sent  to  school,  where 
they  hope  that,  by  paying  for  their  education, 
all  will  be  set  right 

It  should  be  remembered  too  by  mothers, 
that  many  of  their  good  qualities  are  not  ob- 
vious to  boys,  at  the  same  time  that  they  are 
keenly  alive  in  their  perceptions  of  others. 
Among  the  former  class  may  be  reckoned 
those  practical  household  virtues,  of  which 
in  after  life,  and  when  householders  them- 
selves, they  form  so  high  a  value  ;  but  which, 
while  children,  they  generally  esteem  no 
more  than  they  do  the  accomplishments  of 
nurses,  cooks,  and  washerwomen.  Thus, 
for  a  mother  to  be  busy  with  her  domestic 
affairs,  goes  no  way  with  a  boy  in  engaging 
his  respect,  not  even  to  be  busy  with  them 
to  good  purpose ;  because  he  is  necessarily 


ON   THE   TRAINING   OP  BOYS. 


93 


incapable  of  understanding  how  much  good 
management,  and  general  good  sense,  are 
required,  to  conduct  them  properly.  The 
most  industrious  and  laborious  mothers  are, 
consequently,  in  their  capacity  of  housekeep- 
ers, but  little  esteemed  for  this  part  of  their 
characters  by  boys ;  while  on  the  other  hand, 
a  woman  who  acquits  herself  well  in  com- 
pany, who  never  asks  a  silly  question,  nor 
gives  a  foolish  answer,  and  whose  general 
abilities  and  standing  in  society  are  such  as 
to  enable  her  to  take  part  in  intellectual  con- 
versation, and  especially  if  she  inspires  the 
respectful  attention  of  influential  and  clever 
men,  so  as  to  be  addressed  by  them  at  table, 
her  opinion  asked  on  matters  of  moment, 
and,  what  is  more,  attended  to  when  given"; 
all  tliis  is  quickly  perceived,  and  keenly  ap- 
preciated by  an  affectionate  boy,  who  is  but 
too  happy  to  have  an  opportunity  of  feeling 
proud  of  his  mother. 

I  need  hardly  say  that,  on  the  other  hand, 
however  tender  and  conciliating  the  conduct 
of  a  mother  may  be  towards  her  children,  if, 
on  public  occasions,  her  sons  discover  that 
she  has  neither  the  knowledge  nor  the  tact 
to  acquit  herself  like  a  woman  of  sense,  the 
star  of  her  ascendency  will  most  probably 
go  down,  never  again  to  rise  to  them.  It  is 
woman  alone,  who,  having  once  loved,  can 
still  love  on,  when  she  has  ceased  to  admire, 
and  when  in  reality  it  is  painful  and  humil- 
iating to  love.  Man  is  in  a  great  measure 
incapable  of  doing  this  ;  and  when  a  boy  has 
frequently  had  to  blush  and  feel  ashamed  for 
his  mother,  his  affection  may  be  considered 
as  held  by  a  very  slender  thread. 

Seeing  all  this  so  frequently  exhibited  as 
we  do,  in  the  familiar  aspect  of  our  social 
and  domestic  affairs,  it  becomes  a  matter  of 
astonishment  and  regret,  that  mothers  should 
allow  themselves  to  sink  into  such  apparent 
indifference  about  their  intellectual  influence 
over  their  children,  and  especially  their  sons 
— that  they  should  allow  themselves  to  settle 
down  into  mere  household  machines,  or  the 
automatons  of  an  occasional  party,  when  the 
temporal  and  eternal  interests  of  their  sons 
may  perhaps  be  hanging  upon  the  respect 


which  they  inspire  in  their  opening  and  sus- 
ceptible minds. 

I  am  aware  that  many  kind-hearted  and 
worthy  women,  who  throw  the  whole  amount 
of  their  energies  into  the  means  of  making 
their  sons  and  husbands  comfortable  as  re- 
gards the  body,  conscientiously  believe  they 
are  discharging  a  duty  of  paramount  import- 
ance; and  certainly  there  is  no  duty,  except 
such  as  are  of  a  strictly  religious  character, 
upon  the  right  discharge  of  which  so  many 
others  are  dependent,  for  without  attention 
to  the  substantial  and  bodily  comforts  of  a 
family,  I  imagine  there  would  be  little  good 
to  be  expected  from  intellectual  influence. 
But  then  we  should  remember  that  this  duty 
is  only  one  among  a-  many  ;  or  rather,  only 
a  foundation  upon  which  the  superstructure 
of  intellectual  influence  must  rest ;  and  as 
wisely  might  we  place  the  solid  base  of  a 
building  at  the  top,  and  the  light  and  orna- 
mental architecture  beneath ;  or  expose  the 
machinery  of  a  clock  to  view,  and  conceal 
the  index  plate,  as  reverse  the  true  order  of 
social  economy,  so  as  to  make  our  domestic 
affairs  the  most  prominent,  and  neglect  those 
more  important  matters  which  belong  to  the 
cultivation  and  right  exercise  of  the  immortal 
mind. 

Would  that  it  could  be  impressed  upon 
the  understanding  of  every  woman,  that 
there  is  no  beauty,  and  there  can  be  no  right 
order,  in  that  establishment,  where  the 
domestic  machine  does  not  move  quietly, 
and  in  a  manner  unseen.  It  is  true  there  is 
no  comfort  when  it  stops,  or  is  allowed  to  fall 
out  of  order ;  but  there  may  be  almost  as 
much  annoyance  where  it  is  always  exposed 
to  view,  in  order  that  the  world  may  see  how 
admirably  it  is  regulated. 

There  are  many  women  extremely  anxious 
to  have  a  good  dinner  placed  before  their 
sons  and  husbands  on  their  returning  home, 
and  very  properly  so ;  but  why  are  they  not 
equally  anxious  to  set  before  them  an  intel- 
lectual refreshment !  The  answer  is  an  ob- 
vious one — that  they  would  not  relish  it  so  well. 
Yet  again  I  would  ask,  may  not  this  be  because 
it  is  not  dressed  and  arranged  with  half  the  sk  ill 


94 


THE  MOTHERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


and  care  bestowed  upon  a  favorite  dish  ?  I 
appeal  not  to  those  who  are  deficient  in  educa- 
tion, and  certainly  not  to  those  who  are  defi- 
cient in  natural  talent  They  must  do  the 
best  they  can,  and  endeavor  to  please  in 
some  other  way ;  but  I  do  appeal  to  intel- 
lectual and  cultivated  women,  when  I  im- 
plore them  to  spend  a  little  more  time,  a  lit- 
tle more  thought,  and  a  little  more  pains,  in 
studying  how  to  be  intellectually  agreeable  in 
their  own  families,  in  order  that  they  may 
exercise  a  lasting  and  beneficial  influence 
over  their  eons  ;  for  without  this,  I  am  con- 
vinced, although  they  may  be  loved  as  mo- 
thers, they  never  will  be  esteemed  as  friends, 
and  still  less  looked  up  to  as  counsellors, 
whose  advice  may  be  appealed  to  in  every 
season  of  difficulty  or  trial. 

Nor  let  the  mother  confine  her  views  ex- 
clusively to  her  own  influence,  while  en- 
deavoring to  inspire  her  sons  with  a  respect 
for  herself  Having  learned  at  the  same  time 
tenderly  to  love,  and  profoundly  to  revere, 
the  character  of  his  mother,  a  young  man 
will  go  forth  into  the  world  with  a  higher 
respect  for  women  in  general.  Where  he 
does  not  intimately  know  the  individuals 
with  whom  he  associates,  he  will  often  ima- 
gine that  he  sees  the  virtues  of  his  mother 
reflected;  and  in  all  his  intercourse  with 
society,  there  will  be  blended  a  delicacy  of 
feeling  towards  the  female  sex,  a  regard  for 
their  good  opinion,  a  pleasure  in  the  compan- 
ionship of  the  most  intelligent  and  amiable, 
which  next  to  religion  itself,  is  ever  found 
the  surest  safeguard  for  the  protection  of  a 
young  man  in  his  association  with  the  world. 

There  is  no  single  omen  of  future  life  at 
once  so  repulsive,  and  so  alarming,  as  to 
hear  young  men  speak  as  they  sometimes 
do,  thinking  it  spirited  and  clever,  in  coarse, 
vulgar,  and  disparaging  terms  of  women  in 
general.  One  cannot  help  fearing  where 
this  is  the  case,  that  some  want  of  judgment 
or  want  of  care  must  be  chargeable  upon  the 
mother ;  and  one  cannot  help  turning  in  idea 
to  those  who  are  but  just  entering  upon  their 
maternal  duties,  with  a  fervent  hope  that 
they  may  be  more  solicitous  on  this  important 


point,  and  that  nothing  may  be  wanting  on 
their  part  to  inspire  a  more  reverential,  and 
at  the  same  time  a  more  beneficial  feeling. 

Under  the  agreeable  supposition  that  a 
mother  has  done  all  in  her  power  to  ensure 
unbounded  influence  over  her  sons,  we  will 
now  inquire  in  what  particular  manner  this 
influence  is  required  to  operate,  so  as  to  cor- 
rect some  of  the  objectionable  tendencies  of 
character  in  men  in  general.  Perhaps  the 
greatest  temptation  to  which  boys  are  subject, 
is  to  use  their  strength  in  an  unfair  or  un- 
generous manner,  in  short,  to  use  it  so  as  to 
take  advantage  of  comparative  weakness. 
The  conviction  that  they  have  power,  when 
accompanied  with  a  sense  of  mastery,  is  un- 
speakably agreeable  both  to  men  and  boys. 
We  see  this  in  all  the  sports  of  youth,  as  well 
as  in  many  of  the  occupations  to  which  men 
are  by  choice  addicted.  Even  in  that  of  fell- 
ing trees,  and  chopping  wood,  it  is  surprising 
the  satisfaction  they  feel  in  wielding  the  axe, 
overcoming  resistance,  and  mastering  with 
wedge  and  hammer  the  stubborn  nature  of 
the  unshapely  block.  It  is  the  same  with 
almost  every  thing  they  undertake  either  in 
the  way  of  business  or  amusement ;  and  in 
the  more  elaborate  affairs  of  life,  to  have 
gained  a  difficult  point,  whatever  it  may  be, 
or  however  unproductive  of  personal  advan- 
tage, seems  to  carry  a  reward  along  with  it, 
to  the  individual  who  succeeds,  especially 
where  others  have  failed. 

With  such  a  propensity  inherent  in  his 
nature,  it  is  evident  that  what  is  most  wanted, 
is  a  strong  sense  of  justice,  stronger  than  can 
be  taught  in  schools,  where  might  is  too  fre- 
quently the  only  acknowledged  right.  But 
beyond  mere  justice,  there  is  one  considera- 
tion closely  connected  with  this  subject,  which 
claims  the  mother's  most  earnest  attention, 
and  which,  if  properly  impressed  upon  the 
mind  of  youth,  would  help  very  much  to 
bring  about  a  new  and  better  order  of  things 
among  the  affairs  of  mankind.  It  is  simply 
this — and  I  am  fully  aware  that  it  will  not  at 
first  sight  appear  so  important  as  I  have  been 
led  to  consider  it  upon  mature  consideration 
— that  a  generous  and  noble  nature  will  never 


ON  THE  TRAINING  OF  BOYS. 


95 


find  pleasure  in  that  amusement,  which  ex- 
cites laughter  in  one  of  the  parties  concerned, 
and  pain  or  suffering  in  the  other. 

It  may  seem  but  a  trifle  that  a  boy  should 
abuse  the  poor  ass  by  the  wayside  simply 
because  he  can,  and  dare  do  so.  It  may  seem 
but  a  trifle  that  he  should  tease  his  own  dogs, 
and  flog  his  own  pony,  because  he  has  the 
power  to  do  so.  It  may  seem  but  a  trifle 
that  he  should  torment  and  ill-treat  his  sisters, 
because  they  have  not  the  strength  to  defend 
themselves :  but  when  we  think  to  what  all 
this  may  grow,  it  ought  to  be  regarded  as  one 
of  the  surest  symptoms  of  a  mean,  ungen- 
erous, and  tyrannical  disposition,  which  a 
youth  can  exhibit ;  and  when  we  trace  it  all 
back  to  the  manner  in  which  he  was  taught 
in  early  childhood,  to  find  his  amusement 
chiefly  in  those  sports  which  occasioned  suf- 
fering or  death,  and  over  which  he  was 
allowed  to  laugh  and  exult  as  much  as  he 
liked,  we  cannot  wonder  that  his  character 
should  ultimately  prove  the  very  reverse  of 
all  that  is  noble  or  excellent 

In  all  such  cases,  I  am  aware  it  is  to  the 
mother  alone  that  we  can  appeal ;  for  men, 
with  some  few  admirable  exceptions,  are  not 
quick-sighted  or  particularly  scrupulous  on 
these  points.  But  the  mother  surely  can 
prevent  the  poor  dog  at  the  fireside  having 
its  nose  and  eyes  filled  with  snuff,  its  tail 
pinched,  and  its  feet  trod  upon,  to  make  sport 
for  the  young  tyrants  of  the  nursery.  The 
mother  surely  can  prevent  this,  not  always 
by  direct  authority,  for  that  would  make 
some  boys  prolong  the  amusement,  for  the 
purpose  of  showing  their  power  in  a  twofold 
manner ;  and  not  by  entreaty  either,  for  that 
might  possibly  excite  a  laugh  almost  as  exult- 
ing as  that  which  is  awakened  by  the  suffer- 
ings of  the  tortured  animal.  From  scenes 
like  this,  it  is  too  often  the  fate  of  woman  to 
turn  away  distressed,  but  altogether  power- 
less. But  let  her  not  despair,  for  if  ever  the 
preventive  system  is  wanted  to  operate  with 
all  its  efficacy,  it  is  here  ;  for  let  the  mind  of 
a  boy  be  preoccupied  with  a  strong  impres- 
sion of  the  absolute  meanness  of  making 
sport  for  himself,  out  of  that  which  is  misery 


to  another,  and  he  will  be  preserved  from 
much  of  the  cruelty  so  frequently  practised 
upon  animals,  and  much  of  what  is  practised 
by  the  strong  towards  the  weak  of  his  own 
species  as  well. 

I  do  not  say  that  boys  should  be  sent  forth 
into  the  world,  suffering  every  moment  from 
that  morbid  sensibility,  which  is  sufficiently 
objectionable  in  girls.  No  one  can  admire, 
more  than  I  do,  the  manliness  which  meets 
every  difficulty  with  unabated  energy,  and 
the  bravery  which,  when  called  into  action  in 
a  good  cause,  can  look  at  every  danger  with- 
out flinching ;  and  wherever  pain  has  to  be 
inflicted  as  a  necessary  evil,  no  one  can  ad- 
mire more  than  I  do  the  moral  courage 
which  can  overcome  the  natural  shrinking  of 
a  generous  and  feeling  nature,  because  it  is 
an  act  of  duty  or  necessity  that  suffering 
must  be  imposed ;  but  to  delight  in  giving 
pain,  to  exult  in  it,  to  make  the  inflicting  and 
witnessing  of  pain  a  favorite  sport — this  is 
entirely  a  different  matter ;  and  this  it  is, 
against  which  I  would  so  earnestly  warn  the 
mother  to  guard  her  child  by  that  strong 
principle  to  which  allusion  has  been  made. 

It  may  be  said  that  I  am  not  aware  to 
what  this  principle  would  lead,  if  thoroughly 
carried  out;  how  it  would  destroy  the 
amusement  of  field-sports,  and  many  other 
of  those  gentlemanly  occupations,  the  sole 
pleasure  of  which  consists  in  taking  advan- 
tage of  the  weaker  party,  so  as  to  occasion 
either  suffering  or  death.  Yet  without  mak- 
ing it  any  part  of  my  business  to  interfere 
with  the  game  laws,  and  without  wishing  in 
any  way  to  encroach  upon  the  rights  and  the 
privileges  of  country  gentlemen,  I  still  main- 
tain that  it  is  inconsistent  with  a  noble  and  a 
truly  generous  nature,  to  find  sport  in  what 
occasions  unnecessary  suffering  to  any  living 
creature,  however  weak,  or  however  insig- 
nificant ;  and  I  still  believe  that  this  principlt 
carried  out  through  all  the  intercourse  of  so- 
cial and  domestic  life,  would  do  more  to  re- 
fine  and  elevate  the  character  of  man,  thai, 
any  other  that  we  could  propose  for  hi?  con- 
sideration. 

Nor  is  it  upon  the  animal  creation  alone. 


THE  MOTHERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


that  this  principle  would  operate  so  benefi- 
cially. The  opposite  and  most  frequent  one, 
of  the  strong  taking  advantage  of  the  weak, 
and  exulting  in  the  suffering  inflicted,  and 
the  mastery  obtained,  may  begin  with  the 
little  boy  in  the  nursery,  when  he  snatches 
up  his  sister's  kitten,  and  throws  it  into  the 
nearest  pond ;  but  unfortunately  it  does  not 
end  there,  nor  possibly  until  the  feelings  of 
woman — the  tenderest  and  deepest  she  is  ca- 
pable of  experiencing — have  been  made  the 
sport  of  an  idle  hour,  and  in  their  turn  have 
awakened  the  merriment  which  none  but  the 
meanest  and  most  cruel  of  human  beings  can 
be  supposed  to  enjoy. 

But  why  should  we  dwell  so  long  upon 
this  melancholy  page  of  human  life — a  page 
whereon  is  transcribed  some  of  the  darkest 
and  saddest  records  which  the  history  of  hu- 
man affairs  presents,  when  a  kind  Providence 
has  placed  it  especially  within  the  range  of 
influence  which  a  judicious  mother  exercises 
over  her  sons,  in  a  great  measure  to  avert 
this  evil,  by  laying  the  firm  foundation  of 
an  early  and  earnest  love  of  the  opposite 
good  ;  and  in  attempting  to  do  this,  it  is  a 
most  encouraging  fact,  that  some  of  the  very 
same  materials  of  moral  character  are  brought 
into  exercise  in  both  cases.  A  love  of  pow- 
er, for  instance,  and  a  sense  of  mastery — 
why  should  not  these  very  principles  in  the 
nature  of  a  boy,  be  so  directed  as  to  find  an 
appropriate  and  delightful  use  in  the  feeling 
that  he  is  the  natural  protector  of  his  sisters  ; 
and  that  as  he  gains  strength,  and  advances 
in  influence  and  importance,  it  will  be  one  of 
his  noblest  prerogatives  as  a  man,  to  protect 
the  weak  in  general  from  the  oppression  and 
cruelty  of  the  strong.  We  see  here  then, 
that  in  the  beautiful  order  of  Providence, 
there  is  no  need  to  extinguish  nature ;  arid 
that  the  mother  has  consequently  not  so  dif- 
ficult a  task  before  her,  as  she  might  at  first 
have  been  led  to  suppose. 

Boys  have  either  naturally  a  strong  ten- 
dency to  admire  justice  in  the  abstract,  or 
they  are  so  accustomed  to  appeal  to  justice 
in  defence  of  their  invaded  rights,  that  they 
learn  at  a  very  early  age  to  value  it  accord- 


ingly. It  is  in  fact  the  only  appeal  which  a 
man  regards  it  as  consistent  with  his  dignity 
to  make;  for  where  a  girl  would  ask  for 
mercy,  a  boy,  as  if  instinctively,  demands 
justice,  and  nothing  more.  It  is  the  part  of 
the  mother  thon  to  keep  this  idea  most  sa- 
cred and  inviolate  in  the  mind  of  her  son, 
never  to  allow  it  to  be  mixed  up  with  that  of 
expediency,  and  never  to  make  use  of  it  in 
reference  to  what  is  endured  or  received, 
without  being  equally,  or  even  more  scrupu- 
lous, in  applying  it  to  what  is  done  or  granted. 
There  must  be  no  firing  up  with  indignation 
because  the  rights  of  her  son  are  invaded, 
and  looking  quietly  on  when  he  invades  the 
rights  of  another.  No  ;  her  duty  extends  far 
beyond  this,  for  she  must  teach  him  that  it  is 
infinitely  better  to  suffer  wrong,  than  to  in- 
flict it;  and  that  no  insult  endured  can  so 
effectually  degrade  the  character  of  a  man, 
as  to  be  the  individual  by  whom  it  is  offered. 
I  have  thus  far  touched  only  upon  a  few 
of  those  points  so  necessary  for  the  mother 
to  attend  to  in  the  early  training  of  her  boys, 
but  there  comes  a  time  when,  if  possible,  it 
is  more  important  still  that  a  young  man 
should  look  to  his  mother  as  his  best  and 
nearest  friend  ;  I  mean  when  he  is  first  en- 
tering upon  what  is  called  life,  and  upon  the 
occupations  of  man.  From  some  peculiarity 
in  the  nature  of  man,  there  appears  to  be 
frequent  difficulties  arising  betwixt  fathers 
and  sons  about  this  period  of  life,  especially 
if  closely  associated  as  members  of  the  same 
household.  One  would  think,  on  first  look- 
ing at  the  subject,  that  nothing  could  be  so 
desirable  as  for  a  young  man  to  re.main  for  a 
long  time  under  the  roof  of  his  father ;  yet 
in  comparatively  few  instances,  is  this  plan 
productive  of  the  good  desired.  Under  cir- 
cumstances of  this  kind,  perhaps  more  than 
all  others,  the  mother's  care  as  well  as  her 
influence  are  needed,  because  no  other  per- 
son can  with  propriety  interfere,  and  none  in 
fact  can  have  a  right  to  the  same  degree  of 
intimacy  with  both  parties.  But,  oh  !  what 
judgment,  what  self-command,  what  nicety 
of  distinction,  what  prudence,  and  what 
prayer,  are  needed  here  !  It  wou'd  seem 


ON  THE  TRAINING  OF  BOYS. 


97 


that  little  less  than  supernatural  wisdom,  and 
angelic  love,  could  enable  a  mother  and  a 
wife  to  tread  so  intricate  a  path  without  lean- 
ing  too  much  to  one  side  or  the  other. 

Impelled  by  that  intense  and  fervent  love 
which  a  mother's  heart  alone  can  feel — ac- 
customed to  look  with  firmness  and  constan- 
cy to  the  simple  question  of  what  is  right — 
and,  above  all,  supported  by  faith  and  prayer, 
a  mother,  even  in  the  trying  situation  just  al- 
luded to,  will  see  clearly  that  justice  must  be 
done  to  her  sons  ;  that  the  whole  of  their  fu- 
ture interests,  both  temporal  and  eternal,  may 
possibly  depend  upon  the  exercise  of  pru- 
dence, in  first  placing  them  upon  their 
own  foundation  ;  and  that  an  amount  of 
wretchedness,  beyond  calculation,  may  be 
her  portion  and  theirs,  if  they  are  not  en- 
couraged and  helped  forward  in  their  tempo- 
ral affairs. 

With  these  views  and  feelings,  the  mother 
will  be  solicitous  that  an  early  and  equitable 
arrangement  should  be  made  with  regard  to 
the  choice  of  a  profession,  or  a  business,  for 
her  sons.  And  here  I  cannot  but  observe 
with  regret,  that  almost  all  writers  on  the 
subject  of  education,  address  themselves  ex- 
clusively to  ladies  and  gentlemen.  We  have 
already  admirable  hints  on  "  the  choice  of  a 
profession,"  but  I  should  like  to  find  some 
author  bold  enough  to  write  about  the  choice 
and  conduct  of  a  trade;  for  it  is  to  the  up- 
rightness and  general  intelligence  of  persons 
occupied  in  trade,  as  well  as  devoted  to  pro- 
fessions, that  we  ought  to  look  for  the  true 
dignity  of  our  country  ;  and  I  believe  the 
able  and  conscientious  writer,  who  should 
employ  his  talents  in  the  exposure  and  cor- 
rection of  abuses  in  this  department,  and  to 
the  establishment  of  a  new  system  of  moral 
laws,  by  which  business  in  general  should  be 
conducted  upon  higher  and  purer  principles 
than  it  is  at  present,  would  do  more  for  the 
true  interests  of  his  country,  than  if  he  added 
a  new  continent  to  her  territory,  or  even  pur- 
chased for  her  the  empire  of  the  whole  world. 
One  is  apt  sometimes  to  suppose,  on  look- 
ing at  the  affairs  of  this  world,  that  men,  es- 
pecially, have  two  sets  of  consciences,  two 


kinds  of  moral  laws,  and  two  varieties  of  re- 
ligious faith.  That  they  have  one  conscience 
for  the  sanctuary,  and  another  for  the  desk 
and  the  counter,  is  but  too  evident ;  for  many, 
whose  sincerity  in  the  hour  of  worship  is  not 
to  be  doubted,  go  back  to  the  busy  scene  of 
their  weekly  avocations,  to  practise — just  be- 
cause other  people  do  the  same — what  the 
conscience  of  the  sanctuary  would  severely 
condemn.  They  do  this  by  habit,  and  in 
consequence  of  their  having  been  trained  to 
it  by  respectable  masters,  during  the  time 
they  were  clerks  or  apprentices  ;  they  do  not 
see  that  it  can  be  very  wrong,  or,  at  all  events, 
they  know  that  in  such  practices  they  are  no 
worse  than  their  neighbors ;  and  if  at  times 
the  conscience  of  the  sanctuary  does  visit  the 
office,  the  warehouse,  or  the  shop,  it  is  only 
to  make  them  wish,  for  the  moment,  that 
other  men  of  business  would  agree  to  give 
up  such  practices,  and  thus  make  the  effort 
easier  and  less  disadvantageous  to  them. 

After  a  man  is  thoroughly  embarked  in 
business,  conducted  upon  the  customary 
plan,  it  would  be  difficult  indeed,  perhaps  ru- 
inous to  his  worldly  affairs,  for  him.  to  make 
a  stand  against  the  generally  acknowledged 
requirements  of  self-interest.  Yet  there  are 
not  wanting  nobie  and  extraordinary  in- 
stances of  Christian  men,  who  have  made 
this  sacrifice  for  the  sake  of  serving  more 
faithfully  a  heavenly,  than  an  earthly,  Master ; 
and  others  again,  who,  content  with  a  decent 
competency,  have  retired  from  a  scene  of 
contention,  in  which  principle,  when  opposed 
to  worldly  aggrandizement,  so  seldom  gains 
an  entire  victory. 

It  must  not  be  supposed,  however,  that  I 
am  presuming  to  assail  the  general  integrity 
of  men  of  business.  Far  from  it ;  for  I  be- 
lieve in  this  respect  our  country,  to  say  the 
least  of  it,  would  hold  an  honored  place  in  a 
general  comparison  of  the  moral  dignity  of 
different  nations ;  but  I  refer  particularly  to 
those  allowed  practices  among  persons  en- 
gaged in  trade,  which  would  not  bear  to  be 
tested  by  the  moral  standard  of  the  gospel ; 
and  to  that  conformity  with  the  customs  of 
the  world,  which  is  too  seldom  brought  un- 


THE  MOTHERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


der  the  cognizance  of  the  conscience  of  the 
sanctuary. 

Now,  in  proportion  as  it  is  difficult  for  the 
traveller  who  has  long  pursued  a  dubious 
course,  entangled  himself  with  associations, 
and  even  learned  to  adapt  himself  to  the  cir- 
cumstances around  him — in  proportion  as  it 
is  difficult  for  him  to  return,  and  begin  his 
course  afresh,  it  is  important  that  other  trav- 
ellers should  be  warned  by  his  situation  to 
set  out  aright ;  and  in  proportion  as  it  is  dif- 
ficult for  the  man  of  business,  thoroughly 
embarked  on  the  ocean  of  worldly  success, 
contending  with  its  different  currents,  and 
adjusting  himself  and  his  affairs  to  the  winds 
and  the  tides  he  meets  with  there — in  pro- 
portion as  it  is  difficult  for  such  a  man  to  re- 
turn, and  sail  again  upon  a  different  course, 
with  new  rigging,  fresh  ballast,  and  a  pilot  to 
whose  direction  he  has  not  been  accustom- 
ed— there  devolves  upon  the  mothers  of 
England  the  important  and  the  sacred  duty 
of  endeavoring  to  fit  out  their  sons  for  a 
course  of  action,  even  if  it  be  in  the  humblest 
affairs  of  business,  or  the  lowest  occupations 
of  trade,  by  which  they  may  exemplify  the 
great  principles  of  justice,  integrity,  and  truth, 
and  thus  glorify  their  Father  who  is  in  heav- 
en, while  engaged  in  the  common  and  famil- 
iar avccations  of  earth. 

If  religion  be  indeed  the  one  thing  needful, 
and  if  in  the  opinion  of  his  parents  it  bears 
no  comparison  in  importance  with  any  other, 
let  no  young  man  be  sent  out  to  learn  a  trade 
or  a  profession  under  an  irreligious  master. 
It  may  be  said  that  he  goes  to  such  a  master 
to  learn  his  business  only ;  but  does  he  learn 
that,  and  nothing  else  ?  or  does  not  the  mere 
fact  of  his  parents  having  selected  such  a 
master,  give  a  sanction  to  him  in  associating 
with  such  characters  when  he  meets  with 
them  in  society,  as  well  as  in  business  1  If 
the  two  subjects  admit  of  a  comparison,  or  if 
a  parent  prefers  that  his  son  should  be  made 
a  good  engineer,  letting  his  religious  interests 
occupy  but  a  secondary  consideration  ;  rather 
than  that  he  should  be  a  religious  man,  at  the 
risk  of  being  an  inferior  engineer,  then,  indeed, 
it  is  a  waste  of  words  to  dwell  upon  this 


point  But  even  if  men  are  blinded  by  world- 
ly interest  here,  as  in  so  many  instances  it  is 
evident  they  are,  surely  pious  Christian  mo- 
thers ought  the  more  to  regard  it  as  their  es- 
pecial duty,  to  make  a  stand  against  this  fa- 
tal and  too  generally  prevailing  error.  Surely 
the  mother  has  a  right  to  see  that  so  great 
an  act  of  mercy,  as  well  as  justice,  is  done  to 
her  son.  Surely  she  has  a  right  to  see  that 
his  eternal  interests  are  not  lost  sight  of  in 
those  which  belong  merely  to  his  success  in 
this  world,  which  are  at  best  but  uncertain 
and  transitory,  and  which  bear  no  relation 
whatever  to  the  account  which  both  parent 
and  child  will  have  to  crhe  at  the  bar  of  judg- 
ment, where  the  doom  of  eternal  happiness 
or  misery  will  be  finally  decided. 

But  there  is  a  justice  which  relates  to  this 
world,  as  well  as  one  which  belongs  only  to 
the  world  to  come,  and  this  demands  the 
mother's  watchfulness  and  care,  to  see  that 
her  son  is  preserved  as  much  as  possible 
from  what  will  injure  or  degrade  him  as  a 
man.  Long-continued  dependence  upon  his 
father,  want  of  occupation,  or  occupation  re- 
pugnant to  his  natural  feelings,  may  do  this  ; 
and  the  mother  will  reap  the  advantage,  as 
regards  him,  of  having  impressed  upon  the 
mind  of  her  husband,  if  he  did  not  feel  it  be- 
fore, that  a  father  has  no  more  right  to  with- 
hold from  his  sons  a  just  and  reasonable  set- 
tlement in  life,  than  he  has  to  deny  them, 
while  boys,  a  place  at  his  own  table.  It  is 
possible  that  the  father's  own  affairs  may  not 
always  afford  him  the  means  of  establishing 
his  sons  with  such  advantage  as  they  might 
at  one  time  have  expected  ;  but  so  far  as  it 
can  be  done,  it  is  a  sacred  duty  on  the  part 
of  parents,  worth  almost  any  sacrifice  to  per- 
form, and  which  nothing  short  of  absolute 
inability  to  pay  their  own  debts  can  justify 
them  in  neglecting. 

I  mention  these  subjects  more  particularly, 
because  fathers  are  not  always  aware  of  the 
effect  of  their  conduct  towards  their  sons. 
They  forget,  in  the  more  absorbing  interests 
of  public  or  private  business,  what  were  their 
own  feelings  when  young,  and  they  seldom 
take  into  account  the  lowering  of  the  moral 


ON  THE  TRAINING  OP  BOYS. 


99 


character  which  must  ensue,  from  their  sons 
not  being  able  to  assume  the  position  of  men 
at  the  time  of  life,  when  the  laws  of  nature 
and  of  reason  require  that  they  should  in  a 
great  measure  be  masters  of  their  own  ac- 
tions. Neither  do  they  reflect  and  calculate 
as  women  do  upon  the  moral  tendency  of 
things  in  general,  or  they  would  see  more 
clearly  that  nothing  can  be  more  injurious  to 
the  character  of  a  young  man,  or  more  en- 
danger his  safety,  than  for  him  to  be  morally 
degraded,  to  lose  his  self-respect,  and  to  feel 
that  he  has  not  the  common  place  and  foot- 
ing of  a  man,  in  society  ;  as  he  inevitably 
must,  by  being  denied  the  privileges  of  a  free 
agent,  and  the  interest  which  it  is  necessary 
for  him  to  enjoy,  in  order  to  enter  with  spirit 
and  energy  into  the  occupations  of  a  rational 
being. 

To  imagine  a  father  neglecting  this  great 
doty  towards  his  sons,  is  to  look  at  a  picture 
too  melancholy  for  contemplation — a  picture 
representing  a  sort  of  household  slavery,  in 
which  the  sons  are  bondmen  to  their  father  ; 
and  it  is  from  such  abuses  of  parental  power, 
wherever  they  may  exist,  that  we  call  upon 
the  mothers  of  the  rising  generation  to  rescue 
their  children  ;  in  the  first  place,  by  endeav- 
oring to  inculcate  higher  views  of  moral  re- 
sponsibility in  general ;  and  in  the  next,  by 
exercising  their  moral  courage  in  so  regula- 
jting  their  domestic  economy,  that  the  masters 
of  families  shall  not  have  to  say,  they  cannot 
afford  to  provide  for  the  settlement  of  their 
sons. 

In  pursuing  our  examination  of  that  most 
sacred  and  interesting  relationship  which  sub- 
sists between  a  mother  and  her  sons,  the  sub- 
ject assumes  so  many  aspects  of  importance, 
that  it  is  difficult  to  confine  it  within  moder- 
ate limits.  I  will,  however,  endeavor  to  draw 
the  chapter  to  a  close,  by  alluding  again  to 
that  corrective  process,  which,  however  care- 
ful parental  training  may  have  been,  will  oc- 
casionally, there  is  too  much  room  to  fear, 
have  to  be  put  in  practice  by  the  mother ; 
and  here  she  is  of  all  human  beings  the  fit- 
test to  be  at  once  the  confidant,  and  the  re- 
prover, of  her  erring  sons.  She  is  the  fittest, 


because  from  her  maternal  love  she  is  the 
most  disposed  to  look  charitably  upon  their 
actions,  and  to  speak  kindly  even  of  their 
faults ;  and  because  she  must  feel  more  in- 
tensely than  any  other  human  being  can,  the 
importance  of  the  future  being  marked  by  a 
happier  experience  than  the  past. 

In  one  respect,  however,  the  best  of  women 
are  apt  to  defeat  their  own  ends  when  ap- 
pealing to  young  men  on  the  subject  of  their 
misconduct  From  knowing  but  little  of  the 
world,  and  almost  nothing  of  the  temptations 
to  which  young  men  are  exposed,  they  often 
speak  of  vice  only  as  it  appears  to  them, 
without  taking  into  account  the  various  and 
attractive  methods  adopted  by  agents  of  evil 
for  rendering  it  at  first  sight  attractive  and 
imposing.  They  speak  of  it  sometimes  as 
odious  and  disgusting,  when  it  has  perhaps 
been  dressed  up  so  as  to  appear  both  lovely 
and  refined,  to  its  victims.  They  speak  of  it 
as  hateful,  when  it  has  been  listened  to,  ut- 
tering in  syren  tones  the  language  of  flattery 
and  love.  They  speak  of  it  as  low,  when  it 
has  been  decked  in  purple,  or  has  worn  a 
coronet  upon  its  brow ;  and  they  speak  most 
justly  of  its  being  abhorrent,  simply  because 
it  is  evil,  when  possibly  those  to  whom  they 
address  themselves  have  just  learned  to  be- 
lieve it  is  only  women,  and  ill-bred  or  weak- 
spirited  persons,  who  think  it  so.  There  is  a 
vast  machinery  of  allurement  put  in  opera- 
tion by  the  world,  which  ought  to  be  taken 
into  account,  when  we  speak  to  young  men 
of  the  real  nature  of  vice ;  and  it  is  not  until 
they  have  proved  the  falsehood  of  its  prom- 
ises, and  the  worse  than  hollowness  of  its 
pretensions,  that  they  can  always  be  made  to 
see  the  nature  of  vice  as  it  really  is. 

I  have  sometimes  thought,  in  addressing 
persons  on  this  subject,  and  young  men  in 
particular,  that  enough  is  not  said  of  the 
cruelty  of  vice.  It  is  true  that  according  to 
the  method  of  reasoning  already  alluded  to, 
it  may  have  appeared  to  them  in  the  charac- 
ter of  conciliation  and  kindness ;  but  I  cannot 
think  there  would  be  much  difficulty  in 
showing  how  it  is  in  the  nature  of  all  vice  to 
injure,  dissever,  or  destroy.  It  would  not  be 


100 


THE  MOTHERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


difficult  for  a  mother,  before  her  own  son  has 
learned  to  sit  in  the  seat  of  the  scorner,  to 
point  out  to  him  instances  in  which  the  peace 
of  a  family  is  utterly  destroyed  by  the  mis- 
conduct of  a  son ;  and  even  in  the  simple 
fact  of  his  staying  out  late  at  night,  she  might 
describe  a  mother's  feelings  with  such  pathos, 
as  to  make  him  shrink  from  the  perpetration 
of  such  an  act  of  unkindness,  even  if  he  re- 
garded it  as  nothing  more. 

This,  of  course,  must  be  in  the  commence- 
ment of  a  young  man's  objectionable  career. 
When  he  has  advanced  further  in  the  hard- 
ening process,  and  become  proof  against  such 
impressions,  the  mother  can  only  watch  and 
pray  for  moments  of  penitence  or  remorse ; 
and  when  such  occur,  then  it  is  that  in  a 
conscientious  and  feeling  woman,  the  perfec- 
tion and  beauty  of  the  female  character  dis- 
play themselves ;  then  it  is,  that  the  depth 
and  the  tenderness  of  her  love  is  unfolded, 
that  the  floodgates  of  her  sympathy  are 
thrown  open,  while,  with  an  earnestness 
which  belongs  only  to  the  affection  of  a  mo- 
ther, she  pleads  with  her  penitent  to  return 
to  the  ways  of  wisdom  and  of  peace. 

It  is  then,  perhaps,  if  ever,  that,  with  the 
Divine  blessing  upon  her  efforts,  the  mother 
is  able  to  bring  home  to  the  mind  of  her  son, 
a  conviction  of  the  necessity  of  personal 
religion.  He  will  then  have  tried  the  world 
as  it  is,  followed  the  bent  of  his  own  inclina- 
tions, tasted  the  bitterness  of  the  forbidden 
fruit,  broken  over  the  bounds  of  his  own  de- 
termination again  and  again,  and  proved, 
beyond  all  possibility  of  deception,  that  he  is 
not  sufficient  of  himself  to  carry  out  a  single 
good  resolution,  or  even  to  escape  from  misery 
and  degradation.  It  is  then  the  blessed 
privilege  of  the  mother  at  such  a  time  to  be 
able  to  point  to  a  means  of  safety,  and  to  lay 
hold  of  the  previous  convictions  of  her  son, 
to  prove  that  it  is  the  only  means. 

How  many  a  young  man  is  brought  into 
this  situation,  who  has  no  kind  mother  near 
him  to  whom  he  may  unburden  his  heart,  it 
is  melancholy  to  think ;  and  how  many  at 
such  times,  having  had  recourse  to  the  advice 
of  a  spiritual  friend,  and  having  formed  the 


best  resolutions  for  the  future,  for  want  of  the 
watchful  tenderness  of  a  mother,  have  been 
harshly  dealt  with,  treated  with  contsmpt, 
and  rudely  driven  back  from  their  new 
position,  by  worldly-minded  and  irreligious 
men !  How  many  have  wept  tears  of  the 
sincerest  penitence  upon  the  comfortless 
pillow  of  a  cold  lodging,  where  no  female 
voice  was  heard  to  speak  in  words  of  conso- 
lation or  of  love !  How  many  have  risen 
from  such  a  couch,  and  gone  forth  again  to 
mix  in  the  revelry  of  strangers,  and  to  forget 
among  scenes  of  folly  and  of  vice  the  im- 
pressions of  the  preceding  night,  because  they 
had  no  mother  to  go  home  to,  and  to  tell  of 
the  suffering,  which,  untold,  was  more  than 
they  felt  it  possible  to  endure  ! 

Having  felt  for  her  own  sons  tenderly  as  a 
mother,  and  deeply  as  a  Christian,  we  need 
scarcely  add,  that  in  the  character  of  the 
matron  of  a  family,  all  young  men  who  are 
brought  within  the  sphere  of  her  influence, 
ought  to  feel,  that,  to  a  certain  extent,  they 
have  a  mother.  Though  each  may  be  notliing 
to  her  in  his  individual  capacity,  though  only 
an  occasional  visitor,  an  assistant  in  her  hus- 
band's business,  or  even  an  apprentice,  the 
young  man  of  whom  she  thinks  so  little  is 
possibly  the  treasure  of  some  fond  mother's 
heart,  perhaps  the  support  of  a  widow,  or 
the  only  consolation  of  a  neglected  wife,  or 
he  may  hold  a  responsible  situation  as  being 
the  oldest  of  a  large  family  whose  welfare 
may  depend  upon  his  conduct  in  life.  From 
such  a  one,  separated  from  his  own  kindred, 
can  the  mistress  of  a  household,  who  has 
herself  experienced  the  anxieties  of  a  parent, 
withhold  that  Christian  care,  and  that  true 
feminine  sympathy,  for  which  the  mother  of 
the  befriended  youth  may  have  to  thank  her 
when  they  meet,  to  rejoice  over  their  beloved 
one's  welcome  in  safety  to  the  shores  of  the 
"  better  land  1" 

It  is  often  said  that  women  are  powerless 
in  forming  or  directing  the  opinions  of  men  ; 
but  when  we  contemplate  the  influence  of 
those  Spartan  mothers,  who,  by  the  operation 
of  united  and  popular  feeling,  could  make  it 
less  dreadful  to  their  sons  to  die,  than  to 


ON  THE  TRAINING  OF  GIRLS. 


101 


return  home  from  an  inglorious  conflict,  we 
cannot  doubt  that  with  Christian  women  is 
vested  a  power  as  influential,  and  far  more 
holy,  than  this.  We  cannot  doubt  but  that 
Christian  women  might  so  exercise  this 
power,  as  to  inspire  in  the  hearts  of  their 
sons,  a  profound  and  thrilling  sense  of  patri- 
otism, for  instance ;  and  if  they  could  be 
made  to  prefer  the  interests  of  their  country, 
to  the  indulgence  of  mere  personal  gratifica- 
tion, might  not  the  same  influence  be  extend- 
ed  to  the  religious  interests  of  mankind  in 
general ?  N 

It  is  too  much  the  tendency  of  men,  when 
they  purpose  to  do  good,  to  confine  their 
attention  to  the  pulling  down  of  evil,  to  battling 
with  opposition,  and  correcting  abuses  by  the 
strong  arm  ;  until  one  would  almost  think 
their  religion  was  a  system  of  hostility,  and 
nothing  more.  It  is  the  part  of  woman, 
however,  and  one  of  her  holiest  duties,  to 
endeavor  to  smooth  the  asperities  of  man's 
nature  ;  and  when  he  comes  to  her  with  his 
fierce  party-feeling?,  his  strong  prejudices, 
and  his  irritated  feelings,  even  against  what 
is  wrong,  it  is  the  duty  of  a  Christian  mother, 
towards  all  over  whom  her  influence  extends, 
to  point  to  remoter  objects  of  consideration, 
so  as  to  lead  away  from  the  mere  affairs  of 
the  moment,  to  those  lasting,  true,  and  unva- 
rying principles  which  constitute  the  essential 
part  of  a  religion  truly  described  as  one  of 
peace  and  love. 

Thus  by  a  steady  and  persevering  direction 
of  the  minds  of  young  men  to  principles, 
rather  than  to  individuals — and,  above  all,  to 
religion  rather  than  to  politics  ;  and  by  throw- 
ing over  the  whole  of  her  intercourse  with 
the  other  sex  the  harmony  and  beauty  of 
Christian  love, — I  believe  that  any  mother 
may  establish  for  herself  a  sphere  of  influ- 
ence, both  within  and  beyond  her  own  imme- 
diate family,  by  which  the  whole  human 
race,  and  man  in  particular,  will  be  benefited 
beyond  the  power  of  human  calculation. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

ON   THE   TRAINING   OF  GIRLS. 

THE  most  striking  characteristic  of  girls 
as  intellectually  and  morally  distinguished 
from  boys,  is  a  quickness  of  susceptibility, 
and  a  consequent  versatility  of  character, 
which  may  be  either  a  defect  or  otherwise, 
according  to  the  early  training  to  which  they 
are  subjected. 

It  is  sometimes  spoken  of  as  a  defect  in 
women,  that  they  have  less  power  of  abstrac- 
tion than  men  ;  and  certainly  if  they  were 
required  to  take  part  in  all  the  operations  of 
the  other  sex,  it  would  be  so ;  but  for  my 
own  part,  I  must  confess,  I  never  could  see 
it  an  advantage  to  any  woman,  to  be  capable 
of  abstraction,  beyond  a  certain  extent.  It 
may  be  all  very  well  for  a  man  of  science 
now  and  then  to  boil  a  watch  instead  of  an 
egg  for  breakfast ;  but  a  woman,  I  would 
humbly  suggest,  has  no  business  to  be  so  far 
absorbed  in  any  purely  intellectual  pursuit,  as 
not  to  know  when  water  is  boiling  over  on 
the  fire. 

That  susceptibility  of  feeling,  then,  which 
belongs  peculiarly  to  woman,  and  which  ren- 
ders her  liable  to  a  far  greater  number  and 
variety  of  impressions  than  man,  that  liveli- 
ness of  interest  in  all  that  is  passing  around 
her,  and  that  versatility  of  character  by 
which  she  so  easily  adapts  herself  to  every 
variety  of  circumstance  and  situation,  are, 
in  reality,  the  natural  peculiarities  upon 
which  depend  much  of  the  happiness  she 
imparts  to  others,  as  well  as  much  of  what 
she  herself  enjoys.  There  is,  however,  con- 
siderable danger,  lest  these  peculiarities  or 
propensities  of  her  nature,  indulged  to  a 
great  extent,  should  dwindle  into  absolute 
nothingness  ;  just  as  the  lights  and  shadows 
of  a  picture  broken  up  and  divided  into  mi- 
nute portions  destroy  the  effect  of  the  whole. 

The  aim  of  a  mother  in  the  training  of 
her  daughters  should  consequently  be,  to 
strengthen  their  characters,  and  to  fix  them 
on  a  firm  and  solid  foundation,  so  that  their 
feelings  may  branch  out  and  develop  them- 


102 


THE  MOTHERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


selves  in  endless  variety,  without  depriving 
the  root  of  its  necessary  firmness  and  strength. 
One  part  of  the  process  by  which  girls  may 
be  strengthened  both  in  mind  and  body,  con- 
sists in  allowing  them  sufficient  exercise  in 
the  open  air  ;  nay,  even  in  inducing  them  to 
take  advantage  of  it,  for  there  is  a  musing 
listless  tendency  in  some  young  girls,  which 
ought  by  all  means  to  be  counteracted,  and 
nothing  is  so  effectual  in  doing  this,  as  the 
stimulus  of  healthy  and  playful  exercise. 
Those  women  who  have  known  what  it  was 
in  their  childhood  to  enter  into  the  true  spirit 
and  luxury  of  wild  romping,  are  I  believe 
alwrays  the  most  energetic  when  called  upon 
to  act  in  affairs  of  importance  ;  while  the 
musing,  quiet,  listless  little  girl,  though  pos- 
sibly she  may  in  her  early  life  be  more  gentle 
and  ladylike  than  the  other,  seldom  grows 
up  to  be  so  useful  and  valuable  a  charac- 
ter. 

The  artificial  habits  of  the  present  day,  the 
over-taxing  of  every  means  of  keeping  well 
with  the  world  in  external  things,  and  the 
over-straining  of  talent  and  ability  of  every 
kind  in  the  attainment  of  what  is  merely  or- 
namental and  superficial,  have  the  worst  pos- 
sible effect  upon  the  bodily  as  well  as  the 
mental  health  of  woman  ;  and  as  one  is  so 
intimately  connected  with  the  other,  it  is  one 
of  the  most  important  duties  of  a  mother,  to 
aim  at  the  preservation  of  her  daughters 
from  that  host  of  nervous  maladies  which 
effectually  destroy  the  happiness,  and  pre- 
vent the  usefulness,  of  so  many  ladies  in  the 
present  day. 

I  believe  it  is  generally  allowed  that  fresh 
air  and  exercise  restore  the  general  tone  of 
the  constitution  after  it  has  become  weaken- 
ed, more  effectually  than  any  of  those  medi- 
cines of  whose  infallibility  we  hear  so  much  ; 
and  when  we  think  how  much  more  the 
mind  and  the  animal  spirits  are  benefited  by 
the  former,  than  the  latter  prescription,  it 
becomes  a  matter  of  astonishment  that  mo- 
thers should  not  prefer  spending  the  same 
amount  of  money  in  procuring  these  rather 
than  the  other.  It  is  indeed  a  matter  of  as- 
tonishment, that  girls  should  be  so  frequently 


cooped  up  in  close  rooms,  scarcely  permitted 
to  breathe  or  walk  lest  the  air  should  be  im- 
pregnated with  damp,  or  the  ground  a  little 
moistened  by  some  passing  shower;  that 
they  should  be  forbidden  to  run,  lest  they 
should  heat  themselves,  and  thus  bring  on  a 
delicacy  of  the  chest ;  should  be  dressed  in 
such  a  manner  that  they  have  to  bear  per- 
petually in  mind  the  spoiling  of  their  clothes ; 
while  the  little  remaining  strength  they  have 
is  supposed  to  be  kept  up  by  patent  pills,  and 
tonics  of  every  description.  If  girls  thus 
trained  are  to  become  English  wives,  and 
mothers,  we  have  certainly  not  much  to  ex- 
pect in  the  future  prosperity  of  our  country, 
except  so  far  as  relates  to  the  department  of 
medicine. 

And  here  I  would  observe,  in  connection 
with  the  spoiling  of  clothes,  that  one  of  the 
most  frequent  causes  of  dispute  and  dissatis- 
faction in  private  families,  arises  out  of  the 
habit,  so  prevalent  in  the  present  day,  of  liv- 
ing in  a  style  beyond  our  circumstances  to 
maintain  ;  or  perhaps,  more  properly,  to  the 
utmost  extent  of  what  we  can  afford.  It 
may  seem  but  a  trifling  thing  to  mention 
among  the  many  serious  subjects  which  oc- 
cupy our  attention  in  connection  with  ma- 
ternal duty ;  but  since  the  happiness  of  do- 
mestic life  is  in  a  great  measure  made  up  of 
little  things,  I  cannot  think  it  out  of  place  to 
remind  the  mistresses  of  families  in  the  mid- 
dle ranks  of  life,  how  much  disturbance  of 
temper  and  distress  of  mind  they  subject 
themselves  to,  by  the  habit  of  having  more 
costly  furniture  and  clothing  than  they  can 
afford  ;  how  often  mothers  have  to  check  the 
healthy  sports  of  their  children,  lest  china 
should  be  broken,  carpets  soiled,  or  dresses 
rendered  unfit  for  their  next  exhibition  in 
public ;  and  how  often,  when  an  accident 
has  happened,  when  a  costly  vase  has  been 
demolished,  a  necklace  broken,  or  a  velvet 
coat  destroyed,  harsh  words  have  been  inter- 
changed by  the  parties  implicated,  and  re- 
proaches rendered  a  hundred-fold  more  bit- 
ter, from  the  secret  consciousness  of  the  dif- 
ficulty with  which  such  wasted  money  in  the 
first  instance  was  spared,  and  the  still  greater 


ON  THE  TRAINING  OF  GIRLS. 


103 


difficulty  with  which  such  loss  will  be  re- 
stored. 

False  ideas  of  happiness  I  believe  to  be  at 
the  root  of  half  our  miseries ;  and  when  we 
think  of  the  vast  amount  of  natural  and 
healthy  enjoyment  of  which  children  are  de- 
prived, in  order  that  they  may  dress  and  live 
genteelly,  and  of  the  real  suffering  they  are 
made  to  endure,  when  their  buoyant  spirits 
have  led  them  into  forgetfulness  of  the  re- 
quirements of  this  gentility  ;  when  we  think 
of  the  sufferings  of  the  mother,  too,  when 
she  has  to  tell  her  care-worn  husband,  on  his 
return  home  from  a  business  which  is  per- 
haps not  covering  his  expenses,  that  some 
two,  or  ten,  or  twenty  guineas  have  been 
wasted  by  a  single  fall ;  when  he  turns  upon 
her  with  reproaches  for  having  coveted  so 
costly  and  unsuitable  a  treasure ;  and  she 
retorts  upon  him  again,  for  an  equal  amount 
of  money  wasted  in  some  other  way — when 
the  evening  closes  with  tears  on  one  side, 
and  declarations  on  the  other,  that  things 
cannot  long  go  on  in  this  manner,  that  he 
must  fail,  and  be  sold  up,  and  sent  to  prison 
— when  such  scenes  so  frequently  take  place, 
as  we  all  know  they  do,  from  the  simple  fact 
of  people  living  habitually  beyond  their 
means,  an  expensive  establishment  ought  to 
be  a  source  of  happiness  indeed,  to  be 
weighed  in  the  balance  against  the  misery  of 
a  single  evening  spent  like  this. 

It  is  then  to  the  moral  courage  of  women, 
and  of  mothers  especially,  that  we  must  look 
for  bringing  about  a  better  order  of  things  in 
this  respect ;  for  training  up  their  daughters 
in  the  first  place  to  be  more  healthy,  in  order 
that  they  may  have  stronger  nerves,  and  con- 
sequently minds  less  susceptible  of  unneces- 
sary suffering.  With  all  the  enjoyments  of 
which  woman  is  capable,  and  we  ought  thank- 
fully to  acknowledge  that  they  are  many,  she 
is  yet  subject  to  much  in  this  world  of  an 
opposite  nature — to  quite  sufficient  for  her 
strength  and  patience,  without  having  super- 
added  those  extraneous  miseries  which  arise 
out  of  the  present  artificial  state  of  society. 
She  has  enough  to  do  to  adapt  herself  cheer- 
fully to  her  lot,  whatever  it  may  be,  to  bear 


without  complaining  the  trials  of  a  constitu- 
tion always  more  or  less  subject  to  infirmity, 
to  meet  with  equal  mind  the  different  pecu- 
liarities of  temper  and  disposition  by  which 
she  is  surrounded,  to  console  others  when 
herself  in  distress,  to  support  when  depressed 
and  feeble,  to  sooth  when  smarting  under 
annoyance,  to  cheer  when  cast  down,  and  to 
inspire  hope  when  despairing — with  these, 
and  the  thousand  other  offices  of  kindness 
and  consideration  which  it  is  woman's  sacred 
duty  to  perform,  she  has  enough  to  do  and 
to  suffer,  without  being  subjected  to  a  host 
of  enemies  in  that  long  catalogue  of  nervous 
maladies  which  at  once  assail  the  body  and 
the  mind. 

"  If  I  had  been  well,  I  could  have  borne 
it,"  is  the  frequent  and  pitiable  expression  of 
woman,  when  she  tells  of  her  calamities; 
and  certain  it  is,  that  with  bodily  health  she 
is  capable  both  of  acting  and  enduring  to  an 
extent,  which  on  many  occasions  deserves 
the  name  of  heroism ;  while  from  habitual 
bodily  weakness,  and  all  the  personal  in- 
dulgence it  induces,  the  attention  to  little 
thing?,  the  interest  centred  in  self,  and  the 
constant  occupation  of  mind  by  the  trifling 
exigencies  of  the  moment,  she  has,  though 
possessing  perhaps  the  best  intentions  and 
feelings,  but  very  little  power  of  rendering 
herself  useful  to  her  fellow-creatures. 

I  speak  not  of  impossibilities,  when  I  urge 
this  subject  upon  the  attention  of  mothers. 
I  know  that  woman  is  naturally  and  neces- 
sarily weak  in  comparison  with  man ;  and 
that  her  lot  has  been  appointed  thus  by  Him 
who  alone  knows  what  is  best  for  us  ;  but  I 
would  ask  for  her,  in  common  kindness,  that 
she  should  not  be  rendered  weaker  than  is 
necessary  by  an  education  artificial,  un- 
healthy, and  unnatural.  I  would  ask  for 
her  a  fresh,  pure,  and  invigorating  atmo- 
sphere, in  which  she  may  breathe  with  free- 
dom, free  exercise  for  her  limbs,  and  occa- 
sionally the  indulgence  of  that  wild  excite- 
ment, that  thrilling  ecstasy,  and  that  unbound- 
ed exhilaration  of  mind  and  body,  which  a 
free  and  joyous  life  in  the  country  can  best 
afford.  With  the  same  object  in  view,  the 


104 


THE  MOTHERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


general  strengthening  of  their  characters,  I 
would  earnestly  recommend  that  girls  should 
often  be  associated  with  their  brothers  in  their 
sports,  that  they  should  climb  with  them  the 
craggy  rock,  penetrate  the  forest,  and  ramble 
over  hill  and  dale,  avoiding  only  those  amuse- 
ments which  to  one  party  produce  enjoyment, 
but  to  the  other  torture  or  death.  From  these 
girls  should  be  most  scrupulously  preserved, 
for  there  is  cruelty  enough  existing  in  the 
world,  from  the  absence  of  all  thought  about  it 
in  men  ;  but  if  women  lose  the  fine  edge  of 
their  feelings  cm  subjects  of  this  nature,  they 
lose  the  most  beautiful  of  those  characteristics 
which  render  them  scarcely  less  lovely,  than 
they  are  worthy  to  be  admired. 

In  the  study  of  botany,  geology,  and  many 
other  pursuits  of  more  lasting  interest  than 
those  which  afford  amusement  only,  girls 
may  very  properly  be  associated  with  their 
brothers  ;  and  happily  for  woman,  in  all  that 
belongs  to  an  intense  admiration  of  the  beau- 
tiful, both  in  nature  and  art,  she  stands  at 
least  on  an  equality  with  man.  Many  of 
these  pursuits  are  carried  on  with  the  great- 
est advantage  in  the  country  ;  and  if  only  for 
a  short  portion  of  every  year  it  is  possible  for 
parents  to  indulge  their  children  with  country 
exercise  and  air,  I  believe  it  may  be  rendered 
of  lasting  and  incalculable  benefit,  by  the 
feelings  it  will  afford  them  an  opportunity  of 
experiencing,  and  the  ideas  they  will  by  this 
means  acquire. 

What  has  been  said  of  public  schools,  with 
regard  to  the  education  of  children  in  general, 
is  most  especially  applicable  to  that  of  girls. 
More  liable  than  boys  to  receive  impressions 
from  surrounding  things,  more  easily  divert- 
ed from  a  straightforward  course,  less  forti- 
fied by  moral  courage,  and  consequently  more 
tempted  to  have  recourse  to  artifice,  if  not 
to  falsehood,  in  order  to  escape  what  they 
dread,  they  are  at  once  more  exposed  10  in- 
jury and  less  capable  of  withstanding  it ; 
while  many  of  the  reasons  which  operate 
powerfully  in  favor  of  sending  boys  to  school, 
have  no  relation  whatever  to  the  formation 
of  the  female  character.  Besides  which,  the 
education  of  a  woman,  if  it  be  worth  any 


thing,  should  be  one  which  would  fit  her  for 
filling  the  place  and  discharging  the  duties  of 
a  woman ;  and  until  some  new  system  of 
school-education  shall  be  adopted,  by  which 
girls  may  be  progressively  initiated  into  what 
will  constitute  the  business  of  their  future 
lives,  the  advantages  of  sending  them  away 
from  home  must  be  of  a  very  questionable 
nature,  except  in  the  instances  already  allu- 
ded to,  where  family  associations  are  likely 
to  be  injurious. 

In  support  of  my  own  strong  feelings  on 
the  subject  of  sending  girls  to  school,  I  can- 
not resist  the  temptation  of  quoting  again 
from  the  pages  of  "  Home  Education,"  where 
the  author  observes  that  "  Girls  should  be 
educated  at  home,  with  a  constant  recollec- 
tion that  their  brothers,  and  the  future  com- 
panions of  their  lives,  are  at  the  same  time 
at  school,  making  certain  acquisitions  indeed, 
— dipping  into  the  Greek  drama,  and  the  like 
— but  receiving  a  very  partial  training  of  the 
mind,  in  the  best  sense,  or  perhaps  only  such 
a  training  as  chance  may  direct ;  and  that 
they  will  return  to  their  homes,  wanting  in 
genuine  sentiments,  and  in  the  refinement 
of  the  heart  Girls,  well  taught  at  home, 
may  tacitly  compel  their  brothers  to  feel,  if 
not  to  confess,  when  they  return  from  school, 
that,  although  they  may  have  gone  some  way 
beyond  their  sisters  in  mere  scholarship,  or  in 
mathematical  proficiency,  they  are  actually  in- 
ferior to  them  in  variety  of  information,  in  cor- 
rectness of  taste,  and  in  general  maturity  of 
understanding,  as  well  as  in  propriety  of  con- 
duct, self-government,  in  steadiness  and  eleva- 
tion of  principle,  and  in  force  and  depth  of  feel- 
ing. With  young  men  of  ingenuous  tem- 
pers, this  consciousness  of  their  sisters'  su- 
periority in  points  which  every  day  they  will 
be  more  willing  to  deem  important,  may  be 
turned  to  the  best  account,  under  a  discreet 
parental  guidance,  and  may  become  the 
means  of  the  most  beneficial  reaction  in  their 
moral  sentiments. 

"Parents,  therefore,  in  the  education  of 
their  daughters  at  home,  will  do  well  to  keep 
in  view  this  double  intention  in  the  course 
they  are  pursuing ;  and  while  bestowing 


ON  THE  TRAINING  OF  GIRLS. 


105 


their  cares  immediately  upon  these,  recollect 
that  they  will  have  an  influence  to  exert 
hereafter,  such  as  will  make  itself  felt  far  be- 
yond  its  immediate  circle." 

In  proportion  as  girls  are  more  liable  than 
boys  to  receive  impressions  and  imbibe  no- 
tions from  those  with  whom  they  associate, 
they  derive  more  benefit  from  pursuing  their 
studies  beneath  the  care  of  kind  and  judi- 
cious parents.  For  that  part  of  education 
which  belongs  to  the  mere  acquisition  of 
learning,  there  are  teachers  easily  to  be  had  ; 
while  for  that  far  greater  portion  which  be- 
longs to  the  formation  of  character,  the  mo- 
ther, where  her  own  example  and  influence 
are  good,  is  of  all  human  beings  the  best  fit- 
ted. In  cultivating  a  taste  for  what  is  re- 
fined and  beautiful,  in  the  acquisition  of  gen- 
eral knowledge,  as  well  as  in  that  of  easy 
and  agreeable  manners,  in  conversation  at 
once  intelligent  and  unobtrusive,  in  the  prac- 
tical part  of  female  duty,  and  in  all  those 
graces  of  mind  and  person  which  most  em- 
bellish the  female  character,  it  is  impossible 
to  imagine  a  young  girl  more  advantageous- 
ly situated  than  in  a  well-regulated  home, 
and  surrounded  by  an  amiable  and  well-in- 
formed family,  where  occasional  reading 
aloud  from  well-selected  books,  lively  in- 
structive conversation,  and  easy  and  faithful 
narrative,  constitute  the  fireside  amusements 
of  a  social  circle.  In  the  midst  of  such  a 
family,  with  a  mother  who  can  teach  her  all 
the  beauty  of  household  accomplishments, 
without  any  of  their  vulgarity,  a  young  girl 
may  indeed  be  said  to  be  fitting  herself  for  a 
useful  and  agreeable  woman  ;  and  the  nearer 
the  education  of  schools  can  be  made  to  re- 
semble this,  the  more  likely  they  will  be  to 
make  young  women  all  which  the  compan- 
ions of  their  future  lives  would  desire. 

But  how  is  it  so  many  mothers  of  domes- 
tic habits  themselves,  complain  that  their 
daughters  cannot  be  made  to  attend  to  house- 
hold concerns !  and  how  is  it  that  so  many 
young  ladies  who  do  not  deny  that  domestic 
attention  is  a  duty  in  woman,  still  reject  with 
contempt  the  idea  of  making  themselves 
useful )  Much  of  this  truly  culpable  absurd- 


ity we  know  to  arise  out  of  false  notions  of 
refinement,  and  out  of  that  universal  preva- 
lence in  the  present  day,  of  an  anxiety,  in 
the  middle  classes  of  society,  to  adopt  the 
habits  of  the  higher ;  yet  I  cannot  but  sus- 
pect, that  another  secret  lies  at  the  root  of 
this  evil,  which  mothers  in  general  appear 
not  to  have  dreamed  of  in  their  philosophy. 
I  allude  to  the  little  care  which  is  taken  to 
render  the  performance  of  household  duties 
attractive  to  young  people. 

There  is  no  reason,  that  I  can  imagine, 
why  household  duties  should  not  be  attrac- 
tive ;  why  a  mother  and  her  daughters,  as- 
sociated for  a  few  hours  in  the  laundry,  or 
even  in  the  kitchen,  should  not  enjoy  conver- 
sation as  pleasant,  as  when  seated  in  the 
most  elegant  drawing-room ;  nay,  rather,  I 
believe  the  brisk  healthy  exercise,  the  natu- 
ral satisfaction  of  dispatching  business,  and 
the  pleasant  idea  of  being  useful,  are  calcu- 
lated, when  combined  in  this  manner,  and 
when  enjoyed  with  congenial  companions, 
to  do  good  both  to  the  bodily  health,  and  the 
animal  spirits ;  and  I  would  strongly  urge 
upon  all  mothers  to  make  the  experiment, 
who  are  afflicted  with  discontented,  over-sen- 
sitive, and  morbidly  miserable  daughters. 

But  how  is  it,  we  ask  again,  that  young 
ladies  have  such  an  unconquerable  repug- 
nance to  this  kind  of  occupation  ?  Shall  I 
be  pardoned  if  I  suggest,  that  many  of  them 
have  never  seen  their  mothers  happy,  some 
have  never  seen  them  reasonable,  and  others 
still  have  never  seen  them  good-humored, 
while  engaged  in  their  domestic  duties. 
There  is  such  a  thing  as  toiling  on  from 
morning  till  night,  and  yet  making  nobody 
comfortable, — dusting,  washing,  brushing,  and 
cleaning,  and  yet  making  nobody  comforta- 
ble,— cooking,  broiling,  stewing,  and  steam- 
ing, and  yet  making  nobody  comfortable, — 
:oncocting  good  things,  and  yet  making  no- 
body comfortable, — laying  down  carpets,  fit- 
ting up  rooms,  stuffing  out  pillows,  smooth- 
ng  down  beds,  and  yet  making  nobody  com- 
fortable. No  ;  it  is  this  perpetual  hurrying, 
scolding,  and  grumbling,  this  absence  of 
peace,  and  absence  of  pleasure,  which  dis- 


106    / 


THE  MOTHERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


gusts  and  deters  young  women  from  plung- 
ing into  a  vortex,  where  the  loss  of  all  com- 
fort appears  inevitable ;  and  when  we  look 
at  the  anxious  expression  of  these  house-de- 
voted slaves,  when  we  hear  their  weary  step, 
and  above  all  their  constant  complainings  of 
servants  and  work-people,  when  we  see  how 
entirely  their  life  is  one  of  tumult  and  confu- 
sion, excluding  all  calm  or  intellectual  enjoy- 
ments, we  cannot  wonder  that  young  women 
with  any  right  feeling,  or  any  taste  for  refine- 
ment, should  be  effectually  repelled  from  all 
sympathy  or  association  with  their  mothers' 
pursuits. 

It  would  be  w.ell  sometimes,  if  one  might 
venture  on  so  bold  a  question,  to  ask  such 
tumultuous  housekeepers,  what  it  is  they  are 
really  aiming  at,  in  the  world  of  bustle  and 
turmoil  which  they  create  ?  I  believe  many 
of  them  would  answer  with  the  most  per- 
fect sincerity,  that  their  aim  was  to  make 
everybody  comfortable.  Alas !  that  so  vast  an 
amount  of  labor  should  ever  be  undertaken  to 
so  little  purpose  !  If  they  could  only  be  in- 
duced to  withdraw  themselves  from  the 
scene  of  action  for  a  few  days,  or  rather  be 
prevailed  upon  to  sit  still,  look  on,  and  take 
no  part  in  the  domestic  proceedings,  I  ima- 
gine they  would  be  a  little  surprised  to  see 
how  incomparably  more  -comfortable  every- 
body would  be  without  their  interference, 
than  with  it 

Comfort,  they  would  then  learn,  is  not  to 
be  purchased  by  the  loss  of  peace.  No; 
there  must  be  system,  there  must  be  order, 
there  must  be  a  well-regulated,  as  well  as  a 
busy  household,  before  the  individuals  who 
compose  it  can  be  made  happy ;  and  there- 
fore it  needs  both  good  sense  and  refinement, 
both  a  well-managed  temper  and  a  cultivated 
mind,  for  the  mistress  of  a  house  to  conduct 
her  domestic  affairs  in  such  a  manner,  as  to 
render  the  scene  of  her  practical  duties  in 
this  department  one  of  attraction  to  her 
daughters. 

Unless  a  mother  is  willing  and  able  to 
associate  herself  in  such  pursuits  with  her 
daughters,  she  had  almost  better  allow  them 
to  grow  up  in  ignorance  of  domestic  duties 


altogether  ;  for  such  is  the  danger  of  young 
girls  associating  exclusively  with  servants, 
that  the  benefits  derived  from  a  little  extra 
skill  in  this  department,  would  be  purchased 
at  too  great  a  risk.  We  cannot  too  carefully 
preserve  young  women  from  all  that  may 
endanger  a  loss  of  their  delicacy  and  refine- 
ment ;  and  if  they  cnnnot  be  domestic  without 
being  vulgar,  it  is  a  proof  that  they  have  not 
been  trained  in  the  right  manner  to  the 
discharge  of  their  duties,  for  I  am  convinced 
there  is  nothing  in  the  practical  part  of  domes- 
tic economy,  necessarily  vulgar  in  itself. 

In  these,  as  well  as  in  so  many  of  the 
duties  of  women,  it  is  the  motive  which 
dignifies  the  act ;  and  when  all  unsuitable 
conversation  is  avoided,  when  the  reason 
why  every  tiling  is  done  is  rationally  and 
cheerfully  explained ;  when,  instead  of  the 
ignorant  or  clumsy  method  in  which  servants 
are  accustomed  to  conduct  their  household 
affairs,  the  mother  instructs  her  daughters 
how  to  do  every  thing  with  good  sense,  ex- 
pertness,  and  scrupulous  nicety ;  when  she 
enlivens  her  method  of  instruction  with  amus- 
ing and  well-told  anecdotes,  or  points  out  the 
relations  of  cause  and  effect  in  a  more  phi- 
losophical point  of  view ;  when  she  shows 
how  a  little  deviation  from  this  plan  or  the 
other  will  annoy  or  occasion  inconvenience 
to  others ;  and  how  the  bestowment  of  a  little 
more  pains,  will  increase  materially  the  com- 
fort of  some  member  of  the  family,  if  not  of 
all ;  when  she  pictures  the  satisfaction  ex- 
hibited by  some  well-known  countenance, 
and  describes  in  anticipation  the  delight  of 
affectionate  surprise — when  she  thus  throws 
a  sentiment  and  a  moral  into  all  that  is  done, 
we  profane  one  of  the  most  sacred  of  maternal 
duties,  by  calling  it  either  vulgar,  or  unworthy 
of  our  regard. 

In  the  choice  of  books  to  be  read  for  the 
instruction  or  amusement  of  her  daughters, 
a  mother  should  be  always  consulted.  A 
novel  read  in  secret  is  a  dangerous  thing ; 
but  there  are  many  works  of  taste  and  fancy, 
which,  when  accompanied  by  the  remarks  of 
a  feeling  and  judicious  mother,  may  be  ren- 
dered improving  to  the  mind,  and  beneficial 


ON  THE  TRAINING  OF  GIRLS. 


107 


to  the  character  altogether  ;  nor  is  it  possible 
to  imagine  a  scene  of  much  greater  enjoyment, 
than  is  presented  by  a  thoroughly  united  and 
intelligent  family,  the  female  members  of 
which  are  busily  at  work,  while  a  father  or 
brother  reads  aloud  to  them  some  interesting 
book  approved  by  the  mother,  and  delighted 
in  by  her  daughters. 

In  all  the  intimacies  of  friendship,  and 
especially  in  those  lengthy  and  numerous 
correspondences  into  which  young  women 
are  apt  to  enter  with  more  feeling  than  pru- 
dence, the  mother  ought  to  feel  assured  that 
her  approbation  will  be  sought  for,  and  that 
nothing  will  be  really  enjoyed,  not  even  the 
closest  and  most  interesting  friendship,  in 
which  she  does  not  to  some  extent  participate. 
It  is  true  she  cannot/orce  herself  into  these 
intimacies,  and  ought  not  to  assert  a  claim 
to  do  so  ;  but  her  whole  conduct  and  beha- 
vior towards  her  daughters,  should  be  such 
as  to  inspire  a  feeling  in  their  hearts,  that  no 
enjoyment  is  complete  without  her  sharing 
it,  or  at  least  giving  it  her  entire  sanction. 
Indeed,  without  this  degree  of  confidence, 
which  must  be  voluntary  on  the  part  of  the 
young,  how  is  it  possible  that  a  mother  can 
really  know  the  whole  heart  of  her  daughters  ? 
and  without  such  knowledge,  she  can  exercise 
but  little  influence  over  their  moral  character. 

It  is  not  the  manner  in  which  a  young 
woman  conducts  herself  in  company,  which 
betrays  what  is  at  work  in  those  chambers 
of  imagery,  where  the  imagination  and  the 
feelings  of  youth  are  apt  to  dwell ;  and  often 
those  characters  which  appear  in  general 
society  the  most  hidden,  and  the  most  reserv- 
ed, are  struggling  hard  with  under-currents 
of  tumultuous  feelings,  of  which  the  world 
has  little  knowledge  or  suspicion.  But  the 
mother  ought  not  tg  be  strange,  like  the  world, 
to  these  operations,  which  go  on  in  connec- 
tion as  it  were  with  a  sort  of  inner  life,  and 
which  constitute  in  reality,  the  whole  happi- 
ness or  misery  of  the  individual  to  whom  they 
belong.  With  this  second  life,  so  often  hid 
in  the  bosom  of  her  child,  the  mother  ought 
to  live;  for  here  will  commence  the  first 
awakening  of  those  deep  affections,  which 


lie  at  the  foundation  of  the  whole  moral  being 
of  woman. 

The  mother  should  enjoy  the  entire  and 
unreserved  confidence  of  her  daughters,  in 
all  those  little  affairs  of  personal  calculation 
which  so  often  gratify  the  vanity,  at  the  same 
time  that  they  disturb  the  peace,  of  woman  ; 
for  just  in  proportion  as  her  feelings  are  liable 
to  excitement,  and  quick  to  receive  impres- 
sions ;  in  proportion  as  her  happiness  depends 
upon  others,  upon  preserving  their  approba- 
tion, or  gaining  their  favor,  she  is  subject 
to  an  endless  variety  of  anticipations  and 
regrets,  of  hopes  and  disappointments,  of 
joys  and  of  sorrows,  to  which  man  is  a  stran- 
ger, and  which,  from  the  different  elements 
these  varied  sensations  bring  into  operation, 
often  render  the  whole  character  feeble  and 
valueless,  though  at  the  same  time  it  may  be 
composed  of  little  but  what  is  amiable  and 
agreeable  in  itself. 

To  prevent  their  daughters  learning  to 
live  upon  the  excitement  of  the  moment, 
leaning  too  much  upon  others  for  support, 
seeking  too  eagerly  for  approbation  or  praise, 
calculating  too  seriously  upon  the  flattery  and 
attentions  they  receive,  and  in  short  building 
their  happiness  too  much  upon  the  gratifica- 
tion of  their  vanity,  ought  to  be  the  great 
aim  of  the  mothers  of  England ;  for  to  grow 
up  with  an  idea  of  the  supreme  desirable. 
ness  of  attracting  attention,  is  a  mistake  as 
pitiable  as  absurd.  Yet  it  is  one  to  which 
girls  of  quick  feelings  are  particularly  liable  ; 
and  even  where  the  attractions  of  beauty 
are  wanting,  the  power  of  riveting  attention 
by  amusing  anecdote,  of  exciting  applause 
by  the  display  of  accomplishments,  or  of 
making  themselves  conspicuous  in  almost 
any  other  way — in  short,  of  doing  any  thing 
to  escape  the  mortification  of  being  overlook- 
ed or  neglected,  are  among  the  most  frequent 
temptations  from  which  a  mother  ought,  by 
all  possible  means,  to  preserve  her  daugh- 
ters. 

It  is  often  the  case  with  women,  that  a 
rapid  and  acute  discrimination,  a  turn  for 
drollery,  and  a  quick  perception  of  the  ri- 
diculous, degenerate  into  uncharitable  satire, 


108 


THE  MOTHERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


and  a  desire  to  excite  laughter  at  the  ex- 
pense of  kind  feeling.  And  here,  as  well  as 
in  all  other  instances  of  feminine  weakness, 
the  preventive  process  is  that  to  which  we 
look  with  the  greatest  confidence  of  success; 
for,  with  a  character  previously  fortified  by  a 
strong  sense  of  justice,  this  temptation  will 
be  less  likely  to  gain  the  mastery  ;  and  where 
the  mind  is  preoccupied  with  what  is  more 
important,  the  littleness  of  personal  vanity 
will  be  less  likely  to  lead  astray. 

One  of  the  greatest  difficulties  in  attempt- 
ing to  correct  the  faults  of  woman,  is  that  so 
many  of  them  are  such  as  "lean  to  virtue's 
side," — that  they  are  in  fact  mismanaged  or 
ill-directed  peculiarities  of  character  which 
could  not  have  been  destroyed,  but  by  the 
extinction  of  her  individuality.  If  ever  then 
the  care  of  a  judicious  mother  is  wanted,  it 
is  in  the  opening  feelings  of  a  young  girl, 
when  branches  of  the  tenderest  growth  have 
to  be  cherished  and  directed,  rather  than 
checked  and  lopped  off.  We  would  not 
have,  for  instance,  a  race  of  women  unsus- 
ceptible of  praise  and  blame,  reckless  of  per- 
sonal attraction,  and,  above  all,  insensible  to 
the  enjoyment  of  being  beloved.  Any  mode 
of  training  that  would  deprive  woman  of  her 
natural  feelings,  would  deprive  her  of  the 
capability  which  she  holds  as  her  most  sa- 
cred trust,  of  being  a  blessing  to  her  fellow- 
creatures,  and  especially  to  man. 

But,  blessed  be  God  !  there  is  a  foundation 
upon  which  the  character  of  woman  may 
safely  rest,  and  which  denies  not  to  her  the 
exercise  of  those  peculiar  feelings  with  which 
she  has  been  endowed,  in  order  that  she  may 
with  more  facility  fulfil  her  divine  mission 
upon  earth.  It  is  the  religion  of  Christ  Jesus 
— a  religion  which  binds  by  gratitude  and 
love :  and  are  not  gratitude  and  love  two  of 
the  great  elements  of  her  spiritual  existence? 
It  is  a  religion  which  invites  her  to  believe 
and  trust :  and  is  it  not  her  nature  to  do 
both  ?  It  is  a  religion  which  proposes  to  her 
a  firm  support  upon  which  she  may  lean 
with  safety :  and  is  she  not  painfully  con- 
scious of  being  insufficient  of  herself?  It  is 
a  religion  which  offers  her  the  shadow  of  a 


mighty  rock  in  a  weary  land  :  and  is  she  not 
a  pilgrim  faint  and  feeble,  and  often  wounded 
and  distressed  ?  It  is  a  religion  which  re- 
quires her  to  visit  the  fatherless  and  the 
widow  :  and  is  it  not  consistent  with  her 
natural  sympathies  to  do  this  ?  Finally,  it  is 
a  religion  which  appeals  to  her  affections, 
which  asks  her  both  to  labor  and  to  love,  to 
bear  and  to  forbear,  to  do  and  to  suffer,  for  the 
sake  of  One  who  first  loved  her,  and  who 
suffered  for  her  sake :  and  can  there  be  to 
woman  a  more  sacred,  a  more  tender,  or  a 
more  powerful  appeal  ?  No  ;  philosophy  is 
not  congenial  to  her  nature.  It  is  wholly  in- 
sufficient to  supply  her  wants,  and  mere  phi- 
losophy has  ever  made  shipwreck  and  ruin 
of  her  happiness  ;  but  in  proportion  as  she 
is  capable  of  enjoying  and  of  suffering,  and 
that  is  to  an  extent  which  exceeds  all  calcu- 
lation, the  religion  of  the  Bible  is  indeed  a 
revelation  of  good-tidings  to  her,  opening  to 
her  a  well-spring  of  everlasting  peace,  by 
which  she  may  sit  down  in  safety,  and  forget 
what  a  scene  of  suffering  this  world  would 
be  to  her,  if  deprived  of  the  blessed  hope 
which  points  her  affections  to  another. 

This  firm  foundation  of  religious  faith,  it 
is  then  the  sacred  duty  of  the  mother  to  en- 
deavor, with  the  Divine  blessing,  to  make  the 
basis  of  her  daughter's  moral  character:  but 
here  again  we  must  remember,  that  the  same 
peculiarities  will  appear ;  for  th6ugh,  by  the 
regenerating  operation  of  the  Holy  Spirit, 
the  heart  may  be  changed  in  all  that  relates 
immediately  to  everlasting  salvation,  it  is 
much  to  be  regretted,  that  a  carelessness  on 
some  points  of  moral  interest  should  creep  in, 
perhaps  unawares,  and  blend  itself  with  the 
life  and  conduct  of  some  otherwise  excellent 
persons,  so  as  greatly  to  injure  the  cause, 
which  they  probably  feel,  at  times,  as  if  they 
would  be  willing  to  die  to  serve. 

The  influence  of  fashion  has  a  great  deal 
to  do  with  forming  the  habits  of  women  ;  be- 
cause, from  their  natural  desire  to  please, 
and  to  excite  admiration,  they  are  but  ill  pre- 
pared to  be,  or  to  appear,  what  the  society 
with  which  they  associate,  and  which  consti- 
tutes the  world  to  them,  does  not  commend 


ON  THE  TRAINING  OF  GIRLS. 


109 


and  approve.  Hence,  so  long  as  their  re- 
ligious duties  fall  in  with  the  customs  and 
opinions  of  this  world,  they  go  smoothly  on ; 
and  many  (alas !  too  many)  go  little  further ; 
but  when  conscience  makes  the  discovery, 
that  the  ways  even  of  this  little  select  and 
reputable  world  are  not  exactly  right,  or 
rather  are  not  right  for  them  ;  when,  from 
their  peculiar  circumstances,  they  are  under 
a  moral  obligation  to  do  what  this  little  world 
never  does — what  the  friends  with  whom 
they  associate,  and  who  attend  the  same 
place  of  worship  with  themselves,  never  do; 
then  comes  the  struggle,  and  then  most  espe- 
cially do  women  need  the  support  of  moral 
courage,  and  of  that  strong  foundation  of 
moral  character  in  general,  which  can  best 
be  laid  in  childhood,  anc  while  under  the 
care  of  a  kind  and  judicious  mother. 

To  learn  willingly  and  promptly  to  do 
whatever  is  right,  simply  because  it  is  so, 
is  a  great  acquisition  to  any  one ;  but  it  is 
most  especially  so  to  w^omen,  because  the 
first  and  most  natural  inquiry  with  them, 
when  called  upon  to  act  in  a  way  different 
from  the  common  and  approved  routine  of 
life,  is,  "  What  will  such  and  such  persons 
say  1"  "  How  grieved  such  a  one  will  be  !" 
or,  "  How  shocked  such  another !"  and  so  on, 
until  the  very  basis  of  moral  conduct  comes 
to  be  lost  sight  of,  in  the  consequences  which 
are  likely  to  accrue  in  a  social  and  worldly 
point  of  view. 

If  I  might,  without  being  accused  of  par- 
tiality, venture  to  speak  of  the  females  of 
one  religious  body  as  peculiarly  exemplifying 
my  meaning,  I  should  point  to  the  Society  of 
Friends,  whose  private  lives  afford  so  beau- 
tiful an  illustz'ation  of  looking  directly  to  the 
abstract  right  and  wrong  of  every  action 
they  perform.  It  is  true,  even  these  women 
are  often  diverted  from  the  main  point,  by 
little  calculations  about  hems,  and  fringes, 
because  great  importance  is  attached  to  these 
outward  tests  by  the  Society  to  which  they 
belong ;  but  the  habit  which  is  with  many  of 
them  conscientiously  cultivated  from  early 
childhood,  of  simply  regarding  the  right  and 
wrong  of  every  question,  and,  above  all,  that 


of  promptly  doing  the  right  thing  without  re- 
gard to  consequences,  believing  that  only  a 
just  or  an  upright  motive  is  required  in  the 
act,  to  render  it  acceptable  in  the  Divine 
sight,  and  leaving  the  results  entirely  with 
Him  who  seeth  not  as  man  seeth — these 
habits,  cultivated  from  earliest  childhood,  and 
brought  into  operation  in  support  of  truth, 
integrity,  benevolence,  and  right  feeling  of 
every  kind,  have  rendered  the  female  portion 
of  the  Society  of  Friends  peculiarly  exempt 
from  the  weaknesses  and  the  temptations  to 
which  allusion  has  just  been  made ;  arid  if  it 
were  possible  for  the  world  in  general  to  be 
made  acquainted  with  their  hidden  virtues — 
perhaps  more  virtuous  because  they  are  hid- 
den— I  believe  there  would  be  found  much 
among  them,  that  would  encourage  the  mo- 
thers of  England  to  educate  their  daughters 
upon  a  system,  which,  while  it  detracts  noth- 
ing from  the  loveliness  and  the  gentleness  of 
female  character,  places  it  upon  a  firmer 
foundation  as  regards  strong  principle,  and 
moral  feeling. 

The  love  of  a  mother,  and  the  beneficial 
influence  she  is  so  capable  of  exercising  over 
her  daughters,  ought  not  to  be  too  much  con- 
fined to  their  early  years.  As  they  advance 
in  life,  this  love  assumes  more  of  the  charac- 
ter of  friendship,  and  is  sometimes  rendered 
the  most  interesting  and  delightful  which  can 
be  enjoyed  on  earth.  In  the  attachments, 
occupations,  and  amusements  o(  her  daugh- 
ters, the  mother  often  lives  over  again  the 
happy  days  of  her  own  fresh  and  buoyant 
youth.  Enclosed,  as  it  were,  in  the  home- 
garden  with  her  daughters,  she  gradually  re- 
tires from  those  active  occupations  which 
may  in  some  measure  have  wasted  her  early 
strength ;  and  knowing  that  nothing  can  be 
leaned  well,  which  is  not  practically  learned, 
she  sits  in  privileged  comfort,  and  looks  on, 
while  younger  and  more  active  performers 
carry  on  the  operations  of  domestic  duty. 
She  has  then  the  happy  consciousness  that 
her  daughters  really  know  what  belongs  to 
the  business  of  a  household,  before  they  are 
required  to  carry  it  on  with  no  mother  to  di- 
rect ;  and  she  can  point  out  in  what  they 


110 


THE  MOTHERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


have  succeeded,  or  in  what  they  might  have 
done  better,  before  they  are  exposed  to  the 
less  gentle  criticism  of  comparative  stran- 
gers. 

In  their  intercourse  with  society  she  is  also 
ever  near.  By  rendering  her  companionship 
one  of  their  greatest  enjoyments,  they  learn  to 
esteem  it  a  privilege  to  have  her  with  them 
in  all  their  visits,  both  of  duty  and  enjoy- 
ment ;  and  she  thus  has  an  opportunity  of 
watching  every  look,  and  hearing  every 
word  ^  and  it  may  be,  of  knowing  that  all 
are  regulated  by  that  good  taste  and  right 
feeling,  which  it  has  been  her  constant  en- 
deavor to  cultivate.  Above  all,  she  will  have 
an  opportunity  of  observing,  by  what  beha- 
vior their  intercourse  with  the  other  sex  is 
marked.  Girls  may  be  very  judicious,  and 
very  correct  among  themselves,  and  yet  very 
silly  when  they  receive  for  the  first  time  the 
flattering  attentions  of  men.  How  sad  it  is, 
then,  for  a  young  woman  to  expose  herself 
to  the  ridicule  of  those  who  know  more  of 
the  world  than  she  does,  and  who  conse- 
quently are  better  acquainted  with  the  ex- 
treme worthlessness  of  those  common-place 
civilities,  which  none  but  the  vain  or  the  ig- 
norant can  misconstrue  into  personal  compli- 
ments! 

If  ever,  in  the  course  of  female  experience, 
a  mother's  protection  and  advice  are  neces- 
sary, it  is  at  such  times  ;  for  to  witness  the 
foolish  practising  of  ungenerous  men  upon 
the  credulity  of  young  girls,  is  as  painful  as 
it  is  humiliating — humiliating  to  think  that 
the  nature  of  woman  should  be  such  as  to 
allow  her  to  believe  what  is  so  palpably  ab- 
surd, and  often  so  grossly  insincere ;  and 
painful  that  the  weak  should  thus  be  taken  ad- 
vantage of  by  the  strong.  It  is,  in  fact,  a  most 
unfair  and  cruel  trial,  to  which  young  girls 
are  subjected  on  their  first  entering  into  socie- 
ty. Warm-hearted,  credulous,  and  perhaps 
a  little  vain,  the  kind  attentions  of  men  excite 
their  gratitude,  for  they  seem  to  set  them 
more  at  ease  with  themselves,  and  to  take 
off  the  edge  of  that  painful  susceptibility, 
which  makes  them  feel  as  if  they  were  less 
interesting  and  attractive  than  any  one  else, 


at  the  same  time  that  they  experience  a  secret 
and  craving  desire  to  be  more  so.  The  kind 
attentions  of  men  are  then  most  gratifying  ; 
they  begin,  while  receiving  them,  to  feel  that 
they  are  not  neglected — perhaps  they  begin 
to  hope  that  they  may  be  in  some  slight  degree 
attractive  ;  and  if  the  affair  ended  here,  there 
would  be  no  great  amount  of  harm  to  lament ; 
but  unfortunately  an  ungenerous  man  cares 
little  about  the  mischief  he  is  doing,  and  just 
by  way  of  amusing  himself — perhaps  by  way 
of  ascertaining  how  foolish  a  young  girl  can 
make  herself— he  follows  up  his  attentions, 
which  at  firs1  vvere  really  kind,  by  a  system 
of  flattery  ao  direct,  and  by  attentions  so 
pointed.  Jiat  the  unsophisticated  child  of 
nature,  over  whose  ignorance  he  triumphs, 
.becomes  a  laughing-stock  to  her  companions, 
and,  more  than  all,  to  him. 

To  imagine  a  poor  girl  thus  circumstanced, 
without  a  mother  to  watch  over  her,  is  mel- 
ancholy indeed :  but  what  shall  we  say  where 
the  mother  is  a  party  concerned  in  this  folly  ; 
and  where,  with  worse  than  folly  on  her  part, 
she  hails  the  flattering  prospect  of  her  daugh- 
ters becoming  distinguished  in  society,  as  an 
omen  of  their  speedy  and  advantageous  set- 
tlement in  life  ?  It  is  impossible  to  express 
in  language  strong  enough  for  the  occasion, 
the  disgust — nay,  the  perfect  horror — which 
this  manoeuvring  on  the  part  of  mothers 
naturally  excites ;  and  the  wonder  is,  that 
they  do  not  in  all  instances — as  no  doubt 
they  do  in  a  great  many — defeat  their  own 
ends.  The  wonder  is,  that  women  possessed 
of  even  a  moderate  portion  of  common  sense, 
cannot  see  how  repulsive  it  must  be  to  men, 
to  meet  in  society  with  young  ladies  whose 
parents  are  anxious  to  get  them  off;  for  how 
is  it  possible  to  suppose,  that  those  girls  who 
are  so  little  wanted  or  so  little  valued  in  their 
natural  homes,  could  be  any  desirable  acquisi- 
tion to  the  home  of  a  husband  ?  On  the  other 
hand,  the  more  carefully  a  young  girl  is 
guarded  at  home,  the  more  tenderly  she  ia 
cherished,  the  more  highly  she  is  valued,  and 
the  greater  the  sacrifice  it  would  be  to  her 
parents  to  part  with  her,  the  more  room  there 
is  to  hope,  that  she  is  really  estimable  in 


ON  THE  TRAINING  OF  GIRLS. 


Ill 


herself,  and  calculated  to  bring  a  dowry  of 
happiness,  as  her  marriage  portion,  to  the 
husband  of  her,  choice. 

If  there  be  one  trust  more  sacred  than  an- 
other to  the  heart  of  a  mother,  it  is  the  deli- 
cacy and  the  purity  of  her  daughters ;  to 
shield  them  from  all  exposure  to  unkind  re- 
marks, by  the  most  scrupulous  care  as  regards 
their  dress  and  manners ;  to  keep  them  from 
intercourse  with  those  whose  feelings  are  not 
finely  strung,  and  whose  minds  are  not  en- 
lightened or  refined ;  and  to  preserve  them 
from  the  sad  consequences  to  woman,  of 
even  the  slightest  deviation  from  the  strict 
line  of  propriety  in  habits  and  conversation ; 
these  are  among  the  sacred  duties  of  a  mo- 
ther, and  they  are  such  as  no  other  person 
can  so  well  perform. 

As  the  love  and  the  care  of  a  mother  for 
her  own  sons,  and  the  feelings  of  anxiety 
which  they  awaken,  naturally  lead  her  to  feel 
a  greater  interest  in  young  men  in  general, 
and  especially  in  those  who  are  placed  within 
the  sphere  of  her  influence ;  so  the  same  feel- 
ings on  the  part  of  a  mother  towards  her 
daughters,  extend  themselves  with  a  kind 
and  matronly  protection  to  all  the  young 
females  with  whom  she  is  brought  into  inti- 
mate association ;  and  knowing  what  a  deep 
well-spring  of  affection  there  is  within  her 
own  breast,  and  how  much  she  is  capable  of 
doing  and  suffering  for  her  own  children,  if 
she  be  a  kind  and  generous-hearted  woman, 
she  will  sympathize  in  proportion  with  those 
young  women,  who  may  be  separated  from 
their  own  families,  and  deprived  of  a  mother's 
tenderness  and  care  ;  but  especially  she  will 
sympathize  with  the  motherless. 

And  here  I  must  beg  to  call  the  attention 
of  the  mothers  of  England  to  one  particular 
class  of  women,  whose  rights  and  whose  suf- 
ferings ought  to  occupy,  more  than  they  do, 
the  attention  of  benevolent  Christians.  I 
allude  to  governesses,  and  I  believe  that  in 
this  class,  taken  as  a  whole,  is  to  be  found 
more  refinement  of  mind,  and  consequently 
more  susceptibility  of  feeling,  than  in  any 
other.  That  they  should  be  refined,  at  least 
to  a  certain  extent,  well  brought  up,  and  well 


educated,  are  among  their  necessary  qualifi- 
cations for  the  office  of  governess  in  private 
families  of  respectability  ;  and  the  more  culti- 
vation of  mind  they  can  throw  into  the  scale 
of  merit,  the  more  delicate,  the  more  accom- 
plished, and  the  more  highly  embellished  their 
characters  are  in  every  respect,  the  more  they 
are  esteemed  in  the  line  of  their  profession. 
But  is  there  not  another  contingent  hanging 
upon  the  question  of  qualification  ? — Are  they 
not  in  the  same  proportion  liable  to  suffering  ? 

"  But  we  treat  them  so  well,"  say  the  mo- 
thers of  England.  "  We  make  them  exactly 
like  members  of  our  own  families  ;  and  that 
is  more  than  can  always  be  expected  by  young 
women  who  have  to  go  out."  Here  then  lies 
the  mischief.  It  is  the  habit  we  have  of 
sgeaking  and  thinking  of  "going  out"  as  a 
degradation,  which  creates  more  than  half 
the  misery  with  which  it  is  associated.  And 
why  should  it  be  considered  a  degradation, 
when  the  duty  of  educating  the  young  is 
universally  acknowledged  to  be  the  most 
important  which  can  devolve  upon  any  hu- 
man being,  at  the  same  time  that  it  requires 
the  highest  mental  attainments  1  We  all  know 
this ;  and  we  all  know  that  the  governess  is 
often  in  reality  as  superior  in  knowledge, 
habits,  and  associations,  to  the  family  in  which 
she  resides,  as  the  members  of  that  family 
are  to  the  servants  who  wait  around  their 
table  ;  and  yet  we  all  agree,  as  if  by  universal 
consent,  to  consider  it  a  degradation  to  go 
out 

Wherever  an  opinion  prevails  which  is 
contrary  to  reason,  a  hope  may  be  indulged, 
though  but  a  faint  one,  of  its  being  finally 
overthrown ;  and  thus,  though  perfectly  aware 
that  it  is  more  difficult  to  alter  the  current  of 
popular  feeling,  than  to  remove  mountains,  I 
cannot  altogether  despair,  when  I  think  what 
the  happy  results  would  be,  of  such  an  al- 
teration in  public  opinion,  as  would  permit 
young  women  to  be  industrious  rather  than 
dependent,  and  to  employ  their  time  and  their 
talents  in  providing  for  themselves  without 
being  degraded.  There  is  no  help  for  govern- 
esses until  this  happy  change  is  effected  ; 
and  it  is  to  the  mothers  of  England  alone, 


113 


THE  MOTHERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


that  we  can  look  for  so  desirable  a  revolution 
both  in  private  and  social  feeling. 

When  we  look  around  upon  society,  and 
see  the  hundreds  of  young  women  who  have 
comparatively  nothing  to  do,  in  families 
where  their  fathers  and  brothers  are  over- 
worked ;  when  we  see  how  the  natural  love 
of  occupation  directs  them  to  all  manner  of 
trifling,  and  often  to  expensive  and  useless 
pursuits  ;  when  we  think  how  much  happier 
they  would  be  if  profitably  employed  ;  and 
how  much  better  it  would  be  for  their  parents, 
and  all  with  whom  they  are  concerned,  if 
they  also  were  bringing  in  a  little  money  to 
the  general  stock ;  it  is  truly  astonishing 
that  the  prejudices  of  society  should  place 
a  barrier  betwixt  them  and  those  honest  and 
praiseworthy  efforts,  by  which  their  health, 
both  of  body  and  mind,  might  be  radically 
improved.  I  speak  not  of  the  aristocracy 
of  our  land,  of  those  who  are  born  to  rank 
and  affluence,  but  of  the  middle  class  of 
society — of  those  who  are  connected  with 
trade,  and  dependent  upon  business  for  the 
comforts  they  enjoy  ;  and  I  repeat,  it  is  truly 
astonishing  that  such  prejudices  should  exist 
among  them,  as  to  condemn  the  females  of 
this  class  so  often  to  suffering,  helplessness, 
and  dependence,  and,  in  short,  to  moral 
degradation ;  for  what  can  more  effectually 
destroy  all  sense  of  moral  dignity,  than  to 
be  penniless,  powerless,  hopeless  and  unoccu- 
pied? 

I  have  already  alluded  to  those  frequent 
marriages  of  calculation  and  interest  which 
are  both  looked  out  for,  and  entered  into,  urv 
der  these  circumstances ;  and  were  I  to 
trust  myself  to  draw  a  picture  of  the  result 
of  such  marriages,  as  they  operate  upon 
different  varieties  of  character,  and  upon 
society  in  general,  I  believe  I  could  bring 
home  conviction  to  the  hearts  of  at  least 
some  of  the  mothers  of  England ;  but  time 
and  space,  as  well  as  the  general  nature  of 
this  work,  forbid  that  such  minute  details 
of  individual  experience  should  be  exhibited 
here.  It  would  be  more  to  my  present  pur- 
pose, if  mothers  could  but  be  brought  to  be- 
lieve, that  with  them  rests  the  power  of 


turning  the  current  of  popular  opinion  into 
a  more  wholesome  and  beneficial  channel — 
that  with  them  rests  the  power  of  making 
their  daughters  at  once  more  independent, 
more  useful,  and  consequently  happier  than 
they  are. 

I  allude  to  the  preventive  process,  which 
is  the  only  one  capable  of  operating  with 
any  efficiency  here  ;  and  I  would  ask  in  the 
first  place,  whether  any  possible  reason  can 
be  given,  why  the  daughters  of  a  family, 
whose  sole  maintenance  is  an  honest  and 
respectable  business,  should  hold  themselves 
so  immeasurably  above  all  contact  with  it, 
even  in  its  remotest  branches  ?  It  cannot  be 
from  want  of  capacity,  when  they  have  had  so 
much  of  the  profits  of  that  business  spent 
upon  the  cultivation  and  improvement  of 
their  minds.  It  cannot  be  from  want  of 
health ;  or,  if  it  be,  this  very  occupation  would 
be  to  them  the  best  medicine.  And  if  the 
business  in  which  their  fathers  and  brothers 
are  engaged,  is  one  in  which  women  cannot 
with  propriety  take  part,  there  is  a  wide  field 
of  occupation  afforded  by  others,  so  that 
none  need  be  at  a  loss,  if  only  the  degrada- 
tion could  be  overcome — if  only  it  could  be 
rendered  less  agonizing  to  the  nerves  of  a 
young  lady  to  "go  out." 

But  one  of  the  great  advantages  of  this 
change  of  public  opinion,-  and  one  which 
ought  to  come  home  to  the  feelings  of  every 
mother,  would  accrue  to  that  now  unfortu- 
nate class  of  young  women,  who,  from  loss 
of  parents,  or  change  of  circumstances,  are 
compelled  to  go  out,  often  having  been 
brought  up  to  expect  nothing  but  indulgence 
and  plenty ;  and,  above  all,  after  having  been 
educated  in  the  popular  belief,  that  to  provide 
for  themselves,  is  at  once  a  calamity  and  a 
degradation.  The  sufferings  of  young:  wo- 
men thus  circumstanced,  what  pen  shall  de- 
scribe !  To  some  of  us,  the  breaking  up  of  a 
once  happy  and  honorable  home  would  be 
sufficient,  the  uprooting  of  family  interests, 
the  severing  of  family  ties,  the  actual  loss  to 
the  heart  and  the  affections  ;  to  say  nothing 
of  the  over-esteemed  indulgences  of  artificial 
life.  But  when  we  add  to  these,  the  frequent. 


ON  THE  TRAINING  OF  GIRLS. 


113 


ly  altered  behavior  of  friends  and  associates 
to  the  young  woman  who  has  to  seek  a  situa- 
tion, the  loss  of  caste  in  society,  the  remarks 
which  every  one  then  feels  at  liberty  to  make 
upon  the  previous  extravagance  of  her  fam- 
ily, the  cold  reception  of  strangers,  the  doubt- 
ful position  when  placed  in  an  unknown 
'  household,  and  the  selfishness  of  those  who, 
in  purchasing  industry  and  talent,  expect  to 
purchase  kindness  of  feeling,  and  identity 
of  interest,  as  well — when  we  think  how  lit- 
tle of  either  is  often  shown  in  return,  how 
often  the  mother  who  has  engaged  a  govern- 
ess for  her  children,  expects  that  governess 
to  listen  with  untiring  interest  to  her  long 
details  of  family  matters,  while  she  never 
makes  it  her  business  to  ascertain  whether 
the  governess  has  or  has  not  a  father  or  a 
mother ;  and  when  in  just  glancing  at  this 
view  of  the  picture,  we  know  that  it  presents 
but  the  surface  of  the  real  situation  of  many 
a  governess ;  and  that  deeper  sufferings,  and 
annoyances  a  hundredfold  more  trying,  lie 
beneath ;  it  becomes  a  question  of  Christian 
benevolence  towards  those  young  women 
who  are  under  the  necessity  of  going  out, 
whether  we  ought  not  to  do  something  to 
stem  the  tide  of  popular  feeling  on  this  par- 
ticular point,  so  as  to  mitigate  the  hardships 
of  their  lots. 

Mothers  who  have  recourse  to  the  assist- 
ance of  governesses  in  their  families,  may 
certainly  do  much,  by  extending  towards 
them  something  of  that  maternal  care  and 
sympathy  which  their  own  children  enjoy ; 
and  that  this  is  often  done  with  true  gener- 
osity of  feeling,  many  of  those  young  wo- 
men who  are  deprived  of  the  society  of  their 
natural  protectors  have  thankfully  to  ac- 
knowledge. But  it  is  not  the  mere  fact  of 
being  kindly,  or  even  respectfully  treated,  at 
the  table  of  a  stranger,  which  can  remedy 
the  evil.  There  must  be  a  change  in  public 
feeling,  and  a  removal  of  social  and  individ- 
ual prejudice  on  these  subjects,  before  the 
situation  of  governesses  in  general  can  be 
rendered  any  thing  but  miserable  ;  and  it  is 
to  mothers  only  that  we  can  appeal  on  behalf 
of  their  own  children,  if  such  a  lot  should 


ever  become  theirs — and  on  behalf  of  the  chil- 
dren of  other  families  broken  up  or  dispersed — 
for  commencing  with  the  early  training  of  their 
daughters,  a  totally  different  order  of  thought 
and  feeling  on  those  subjects ;  and  by  quali- 
fying them  for  the  efforts  they  may  have  to 
make,  by  the  early  cultivation  of  moral  cour- 
age based  on  the  stteng  foundation  of  reli- 
gious principle. 

The  love  of  a  mother  is  naturally,  and,  as 
it  exists  in  the  animal  creation,  a  tender 
brooding  love — a  love  that  brings  home,  as  it 
were,  beneath  the  parent's  wing,  and  which 
delights  in  nothing  so  much  as  feeling  that 
the  beloved  ones  are  safe,  and  safe  because 
they  are  near.  But  the  Christian  mother  has 
to  look  beyond  the  limits  of  this  narrow-"  and 
exclusive  love,  and  to  throw  precisely  the 
same  feelings  into  a  far  wider  field  of  thought 
and  calculation.  She  has,  in  short,  to  leave 
herself  out  of  the  question  of  her  children's 
happiness,  and  to  form  their  characters  upon 
such  a  basis,  as  that  they  shall  be  as  safe 
when  her  influence  is  withdrawn,  as  when 
they  are  immediately  beneath  her  eye.  Slie 
cannot  expect  to  be  always  near  her  daugh- 
ters, and  whether  or  not  they  have  to  share 
the  lot  above  described,  they  will  in  all  prob- 
ability be  established  in  homes,  separate,  if 
not  distant,  from  hers,  where  they  will  have 
to  act  for,  and  by  themselves.  To  fit  them 
for  this,  or  for  whatever  may  betide  in  the 
vicissitude  -of  human  affairs,  is  then  her  ' 
great  object ;  and  while  she  makes  them 
generally  useful,  and  thoroughly  initiated  in 
all  the  business  of  domestic  life,  she  will  see 
the  advantage,  too  often  lost  sight  of,  of  bring- 
ing them  up  with  the  thorough  knowledge  of 
some  additional  art  or  attainment,  by  which 
they  may,  if  required,  be  able  to  maintain 
themselves  ;  but  at  the  same  time  she  must 
instil  into  their  minds  an  honorable  convic- 
tion, that  the  practice  of  such  an  art  is  far 
more  commendable,  and  far  more  conducive 
to  happiness,  than  the  helplessness  of  mere 
artificial  refinements,  or  the  meanness  of  vol- 
untary dependence. 

In  this  manner,  the  mother  will  provide 
more  effectually  for  the  welfare  of  her  daugh- 


114 


THE  MOTHERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


ters,  than  the  father  who  toils  to  obtain  them 
a  fortune  ;  and  when  her  tender  and  watch- 
ful eye  is  about  tcf  close  upon  them  forever, 
she  will  have  the  satisfaction  of  leaving  them 
a  support  to  their  country,  an  honor  to  soci- 
ety, and  a  blessing  to  those  with  whom  they 
may  be  most  intimately  associated. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

ON   RELIGIOUS   INFLUENCE. 

ON  the  subject  of  religious  influence,  I  do 
not  feel  myself  called  upon  to  enter  at  length 
into  a  description  of  that  change  of  heart, 
without  which  the  mother  can  have  little  to 
hope  for  in  the  religious  education  of  her  chil- 
dren. Throughout  the  course  of  this  work, 
it  has  appeared  to  me  a  duty  to  throw  out 
occasional  hints,  in  the  hope  that  they  may 
be  found  useful,  even  to  religious  parents, 
rather  than  to  lay  down  any  specific  rule,  by 
which  the  religious  character  may  be  formed. 
There  are  other  writers  to  do  this,  of  far  high- 
er qualifications  than  myself;  while  it  is  pos- 
sible that  many  things  connected  with  the 
morals  of  social  life,  which  strike  the  eye  of 
the  more  trifling  observer,  may  entirely  escape 
their  notice. 

I  would  not  be  supposed,  however,  to 
glance  only  with  careless  indifference  at  this 
most  essential  part  of  the  qualifications  of  a 
mother  ;  because  no  one  can  feel  more  fully 
persuaded  than  myself,  that  it  is  the  only  ba- 
sis of  all  good  morals,  and  of  all  good  influ- 
ence ;  nor  have  I  even  imagined  what  mo- 
tives to  propose,  or  what  arguments  to  use, 
in  addressing  a  mother  unconvinced  of  this 
great  fundamental  truth — that  without  a  re- 
ligious foundation,  there  is  no  education  wor- 
thy of  the  name.  Thus,  if  I  have  not  direct- 
ly urged  the  importance  of  a  change  of  heart 
on  the  part  of  the  mother,  it  has  been  because 
I  considered  the  subject  too  extensive  in  its 
relations,  and  too  profound  in  its  interests,  to 
find  an  appropriate  place  in  a  work  of  this 


description — not  because  I  believed  it  possible 
for  a  mother  to  train  up  her  child  in  the  way 
he  should  go,  without  being  in  her  own  char- 
acter a  consistent  Christian. 

It  is,  however,  a  lamentable  fact,  that  the 
children  of  pious  parents  sometimes  deviate 
widely  from  the  path  of  wisdom  and  of  peace ; 
that  while  strictly  guarded  from  the  vices  of 
the  world,  they  sometimes  give  way  to  se- 
cretly cherished  faults  ;  and  sometimes,  under 
the  influence  of  a  sort  of  worldly-righteous- 
ness,  wear  an  outward  aspect  of  religion, 
without  possessing  its  inward  and  spiritual 
life. 

It  becomes  then  an  important  question — 
whether  there  may  not  have  been  some  de- 
fect on  the  part  of  the  parents  ?  It  is  possi- 
ble they  may  have  failed  in  faith,  or  they  may 
have  failed  in  prayer;  but  they  may  also 
have  failed  in  the  adaptation  of  means  to 
the  end  proposed ;  they  may  have  failed 
in  knowledge,  in  consideration,  or  in  com- 
mon sense,  and  these  are  instances  which 
come  more  immediately  under  our  notice 
here. 

They  may  have  failed  from  ignorance  of 
the  world,  and  of  human  nature ;  for  it  is 
possible  to  be  too  guarded,  too  exclusive,  and 
too  strict  in  their  requirements  ;  because  we 
never  can  do  good  by  attempting  to  crush 
nature ;  and  it  should  always  be  borne  in 
mind,  that  the  work  of  grace  is  to  operate 
upon  nature,  not  to  extinguish  it. 

Some  parents,  again,  are  extremely  solicit- 
ous to  guard  their  children  from  all  external 
harm — from  all  infection  from  without ;  but 
are  forgetful  of  the  diseases  which  lurk  with- 
in the  human  heart,  and  which  in  such  cases 
not  unfrequently  assume  the  character  of 
hypocrisy  or  spiritual  pride ;  for  where  a 
child  is  scrupulously  kept  from  association 
with  others,  from  reading  their  books,  and 
sharing  in  their  amusements,  it  is  perfectly 
natural  that,  without  great  care,  it  should 
learn  to  consider  itself  too  good  to  be  their 
companion. 

Where  a  child  enjoys  the  privilege  of  see- 
ing constantly  exemplified  in  its  mother's 
character,  the  beauty  of  Christian  meekness, 


ON  RELIGIOUS  INFLUENCE. 


115 


it  will  be  less  likely  to  fall  into  this  error ; 
but  where  the  mother  is  forward  in  her  re- 
ligious profession,  loud  in  her  condemnation 
of  the  world,  and  quick  to  judge  and  to  con- 
demn, there  is  little  hope  that  the  characters 
of  her  children  will  be  adorned  with  that 
pearl  beyond  all  price — a  meek  and  quiet 
spirit. 

There  is  something  too  much  opposed  to 
meekness  in  the  spirit  of  the  times  in  which 
we  live ;  and  it  is  the  duty  of  the  mother, 
among  her  other  calculations,  to  take  into  ac- 
count the  peculiar  tone  of  popular  feeling, 
and  the  tendency  of  social  habits  and  modes 
of  thinking  which  prevail  throughout  the 
circle  in  which  she  moves,  in  order  that  her 
children  maybe  fitted  for  situations  of  use- 
fulness in  this  world,  as  well  as  for  enjoying 
the  reward  of  the  righteous  in  the  world  to 
come. 

I  have  often  had  occasion  to  observe,  that 
the  tendency  of  the  present  times  is  to  look 
to  obvious  display,  and  immediate  results,  in 
every  thing  we  undertake  ;  and  in  nothing  is 
this  more  striking,  than  in  our  religious  du- 
ties. There  is  a  great  deal  of  profession ; 
a  great  deal  of  going  to  church  and  chapel ; 
a  great  deal  of  flocking  to  hear  popular 
preachers ;  a  great  deal  of  dependence  upon 
outward  means ;  a  great  deal  of  the  hurry 
and  the  business  of  religion,  with  but  little 
time  for  the  secret  examination  of  the  heart ; 
and  hence  there  follows  a  danger  of  our  com- 
ing to  consider  religion,  rather  as  something 
performed,  than  as  something  experienced; 
hence  also,  there  follows  a  degree  of  indif- 
ference with  regard  to  those  minor  points  of 
domestic  morals,  which  tell  for  nothing  before 
the  world,  but  which  are,  in  their  strictness 
and  conformity  to  the  Divine  law,  as  much 
the  fruits  of  the  Spirit,  as  the  zeal  of  the 
missionary,  or  the  public  labors  of  the  phi- 
lanthropist. 

It  can  scarcely  be  expected  of  men,  that 
they  should  pause  from  those  public  avoca- 
tions which  so  much  occupy  all  classes  of 
society  in  the  present  day,  to  regard  these 
apparently  trifling  matters  ;  nor  indeed  have 
they  the  peculiar  talent,  or  character  of  mind 


which  would  qualify  them  for  minute  obser- 
vation in  this  sphere  of  duty  ;  but  we  do  look 
:o  women,  and  to  mothers  especially,  to  see 
that  religion  is  not  performed  in  the  sanctua- 
ry, and  praised  on  the  platform,  while  the 
world  is  in  reality  the  household  god  which 
presides  over  the  domestic  hearth — the  world 
n  its  fair,  and  plausible,  and  reputable  char- 
acter— that  world  which  has  kindly  come 
forward  and  taken  religion  by  the  hand,  and 
prophesied  smooth  things,  and  said,  let  us 
walk  to  the  house  of  God  in  company,  and 
take  sweet  counsel  together — that  world 
which,  with  all  its  specious  promises,  its  pat- 
ronage, its  fellowship,  and  its  support,  is  still 
but  the  world,  and  never  can  be  made  a  sub- 
stitute for  the  humbling,  heart-searching  in- 
fluence of  true  and  spiritual  religion. 

Especially  the  mother  must  be  watchful 
of  her  own  life  and  conduct  in  this  respect. 
It  is  not  merely  by  talking  exclusively  about 
sermons,  ministers,  or  Sunday  schools,  that 
a  stand  can  be  made  against  the  encroach- 
ments of  the  world  to  which  I  allude.  Since 
religious  persecution  of  an  open  character 
has  been  discountenanced  by  the  laws  of  our 
land,  since  it  has  become  respectable — nay, 
genteel — to  be  religious,  there  has  existed  a 
very  natural  tendency  to  indulge  in  a  kind 
of  religious  gossip,  essentially  worldly  in  its 
spirit  and  character,  which  with  many  per- 
sons is  made  to  fill  up  the  spare  moments 
of  the  Sabbath,  and  is  mistaken  for  suitable 
and  even  edifying  conversation.  I  do  not 
say  that  the  subjects  alluded  to  should  be 
excluded  from  social  intercourse.  Far  from 
it ;  for  they  are  subjects  which  very  properly 
lie  near  to  the  heart  devoted  to  the  service 
of  its  heavenly  Master  ;  but  there  is  a  world- 
ly manner  in  which  such  subjects  are  some- 
times entered  into,  which  dwells  only  upon 
the  outward  and  material  aspect  of  religious 
life,  and  which  has  as  little  relation  to  the 
work  of  the  Holy  Spirit  in  regenerating  the 
heart,  as  if  the  actual  dress  and  manners  ol 
a  congregation,  met  for  purposes  of  worship 
were  made  the  theme  of  a  Sabbath  day's 
discourse. 
It  is  for  the  mother  to  exemplify  by  her 


116 


THE  MOTHERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


whole  life,  that  she  drinks  at  a  well  of  deep- 
er interest  in  her  religious  experience — from 
fountains  hewn  out  of  the  living  rock  ;  and 
therefore,  when  she  converses  upon  the 
common  and  familiar  topics  of  the  day,  it 
will  be  with  a  moral  in  the  general  tone  and 
spirit  of  what  she  says,  which  can  only  be 
derived  from  her  own  habitual  communion 
of  soul  with  the  Father  of  spirits.  It  is  for 
the  mother  to  mix  with  her  family  in  all  so- 
cial and  domestic  avocations,  not  with  a  strict 
and  exclusive  air  of  superiority,  as  if  holier 
than  the  rest,  but  as  one  whose  presence  is 
more  felt  than  seen,  diffusing  an  influence  of 
meekness,  charity,  and  peace,  while  it  im- 
parts to  every  thing  that  is  said  and  done  a 
tendency  to  unite,  combine,  and  operate,  so 
as  to  promote  the  glory  of  Him  on  whose 
blessing  alone  she  depends  for  the  safety  of 
her  children. 

It  is  often  the  duty  of  a  mother,  and  one 
which  ought  never  to  be  neglected,  to  give 
her  time  and  attention  to  the  mere  trifles  of 
the  moment  Indeed,  so  pressing  are  these 
claims  occasionally  found,  that  some  well- 
meaning  mothers  find  no  time  to  go  beyond 
them.  There  is,  however,  a  scale  to  be  ob- 
served in  the  importance  we  attach  to  each 
department  of  duty,  and  on  the  right  adjust- 
ment of  this  scale  depends  the  good  influ- 
ence of  a  parent.  If,  for  instance,  the  mo- 
ther can  rind  time  to  attend  to  the  fitting  and 
forming  of  a  carpet,  and  none  to  listen  when 
a  child  is  anxious  to  hear  about  the  things  of 
eternity,  or  if  she  is  interested  and  indignant 
about  the  accidental  spoiling  of  a  dress,  and 
evinces  but  little  feeling  when  a  child  has 
resisted  any  strong  temptation,  it  is  evident 
that,  in  her  hands,  the  moral  scale  must  be 
very  differently  adjusted  before  she  can  ex- 
pect her  religious  influence  to  be  of  much 
benefit  to  her  children. 

There  is  also  a  grudging  and  reluctant 
manner  of  giving  to  the  duties  of  religion 
their  due  share  of  regard,  which  has  a  very 
injurious  effect  upon  the  minds  of  children, 
for  they  are  quick  to  observe,  not  only  what 
is  done,  but  in  what  spirit  we  act ;  and  the 
peevishness  and  flurry  of  temper  consequent 


upon  a  late  breakfast  on  the  morning  of  the 
Sabbath,  with  the  tumultuous  preparation  of 
a  family  for  their  usual  well-dressed  appear- 
ance at  a  place  of  worship,  is  scarcely  tb  be 
preferred  to  the  indifference  which  would  al- 
low them  all  to  remain  at  home.  For  harsh 
words  are  apt  to  be  spoken  at  such  times, 
and  mutual  reproaches  thrown  out  among 
the  parties  most  to  blame,  while,  as  a  natural 
consequence,  all  things  go  wrong,  because 
there  has  been  no  time  for  preparing  them  to 
go  right.  Perhaps,  in  the  midst  of  all  this, 
a  mockery  of  family  worship  is  performed, 
and  the  child  who  has  just  heard  its  father 
speak  in  tones  of  anger  and  reproach,  has  to 
kneel  down  and  join  with  him  in  prayer. 

With  the  mother,  then,  rests  the  practical 
duty  of  exhibiting,  by  her  own  self-denying 
conduct,  her  supreme  regard  for  religion, 
both  in  her  heart  and  her  household.  Who- 
ever chooses  to  be  idle  or  negligent,  she  must 
be  early  prepared  ;  and  as  it  is  much  easier 
to  go  to  church  than  to  give  up  a  selfish  in- 
clination, she  must  convince  her  children 
that  this  sacrifice  is  not  too  much  for  her  to 
make.  There  may  be  many  motives  not  al- 
together pure  in  themselves,  to  induce,  in 
the  present  day,  an  outward  observance  of 
religious  duties ;  but  when  the  mother  of  a 
family,  whose  whole  life  is  consistent  with 
her  Christian  profession,  rises  the  earliest  in 
the  household,  though  perhaps  in  her  own 
frame  the  weakest ;  when  she  is  always  pre- 
pared in  a  cheerful  and  quiet  spirit  to  meet 
the  requirements  of  the  day  and  hour,  though 
perhaps  having  more  to  think  of  and  arrange 
than  any  other  member  of  the  family  ;  when 
she,  in  her  own  person,  has  done  her  part  to 
remove  obstacles  and  smooth  the  way,  that 
others  may  tread  more  softly  on  the  path  of 
duty  ;  when  she  has  put  away  every  selfish 
feeling,  and  done  all  this  for  months  and 
years  in  the  true  spirit  of  Christian  and  ma- 
ternal love,  I  believe  it  will  not  be  found  in 
the  hearts  of  her  children  to  resist  the  solemn 
working  of  so  holy  and  so  powerful  an  in- 
fluence. 

I  have  said  that  the  eye  of  childhood  is 
quick  to  observe  the  spirit  of  what  we  do,  as 


ON  RELIGIOUS  INFLUENCE. 


117 


well  as  the  acts  we  perform  ;  and  in  nothing 
is  this  more  evident  than  in  the  general 
service  which  the  Christian  is  called  upon  to 
render  to  the  cause  of  the  Redeemer  on  earth. 
That  God  is  love,  is  at  once  the  most  sublime, 
and  the  most  important  truth  which  can  be 
impressed  upon  the  mind  of  youth.  We  all 
know  that  this  truth  is  often  told  ;  but  how 
is  it  exemplified  to  the  credulous  and  inex- 
perienced? Alas!  what  an  amount  of  dolor- 
ous lamentations  over  sin  and  sorrow,  com- 
pared with  the  real  rejoicings  which  we  hear 
in  the  mercy  and  goodness  of  God,  and 
especially  in  the  means  of  salvation  so  freely 
offered  to  the  sinner !  What  threatenings  of 
Divine  wrath  against  the  guilty  ;  what  talk 
about  religion,  in  seasons  of  distress  ;  what 
pointing  to  that  consolation,  in  the  absence 
of  all  other ;  but  what  neglect  of  the  same 
means  for  sanctifying  our  enjoyments,  by 
referring  them  to  the  great  Source  of  all 
human  happiness  ! 

Sorrow  and  sin  are  made  powerful  instru- 
ments in  enforcing  convictions  of  religious 
truth ;  but  ought  not  joy  to  have  its  share, 
more  especially  as  vice  lays  hold  of  joy  as  its 
instrument  on  every  hand  1  for  how  can  we 
expect  that  the  young  should  be  attracted  by 
that  which  is  always  associated  with  gloom, 
when  they  see,  on  the  other  hand,  that  its 
opposite  is  associated  with  cheerfulness  and 
mirth  1  It  is  in  after  life,  when  we  seek 
a  refuge  for  our  grief,  when  we  ask  a  shelter 
for  our  chagrin,  and  a  hiding-place  for  our 
tears,  that  nothing  seems  so  welcome  to  us 
as  the  shadow  of  a  mighty  rock  in  a  weary  land. 
Youth  knows  none  of  these  sad  yearnings  of 
the  heart.  The  future*  is  bright,  .and  the 
present  full  of  joy,  to  those  who  are  just 
setting  out  upon  the  journey  of  life  ;  and 
therefore  that  which  offers  them  the  happiness 
of  a  world  to  come,  only  as  a  substitute  for 
the  enjoyments  of  this,  cannot  be  expected  to 
recommend  itself  to  their  natural  affections. 

But  what  is  the  joy  of  a  child  ?  Is  it  not 
a  beautiful  and  a  holy  thing]  and  why  should 
it  then  be  associated  only  with  toys  and 
laughter  1  The  joy  of  a  child  is  that  which 
the  world  is  too  poor  to  restore,  when  once 


it  has  been  extinguished.  It  comes  directly 
from  the  hand  of  God,  so  lovely  and  so  pure, 
that  for  the  brief  space  of  its  enjoyment  upon 
earth,  it  does  good  to  the  heart  of  the  weary, 
and  revives  the  hope  of  the  fainting,  by  re- 
flecting a  light  which  they  know  must  be 
from  heaven,  and  which  they  believe  to  be 
still  shining  on,  in  more  perfect  refulgence 
there.  The  joy  of  a  child  is  so  ecstatic,  so 
self-existent,  and  so  unbounded,  that  it  seems 
to  belong  simply  to  the  young  fresh  life  with 
which  its  existence  commences,  and  requires 
little  beyond  that  existence  to  render  it  com- 
plete. Thus  it  is  perfectly  true,  that  even 
when  deprived  of  the  love  and  the  care  of 
its  mother,  the  child  will  at  times  be  happy 
still.  It  may  even  laugh,  and  make  merry, 
in  the  chamber  of  sickness  where  her  life  is 
ebbing  away — nay,  it  will  sometimes  play  in 
the  churchyard  before  the  grass  has  grown 
upon  her  grave.  But  though  the  mother 
cannot  always  create  the  joy  of  her  child, 
she  may  influence  and  direct  it :  and  though 
it  will  at  times  be  happy,  whether  she  makes 
it  so  or  not,  she  may  use  this  strong  impulse 
of  its  nature,  so  as  to  lead  it  to  rejoice  in 
what  is  lovely,  good,  and  kind ;  and,  as  it 
advances  in  knowledge  and  experience,  in 
that  which  may  be  associated  either  imme- 
diately or  remotely  with  the  Divine  nature 
and  attributes. 

There  is  a  great  difference  betwixt  rejoicing 
because  of  receiving  a  new  toy  ;  and  because 
of  having  spent,  for  the  first  time,  a  whole 
day  without  being  out  of  temper.  There  is 
a  great  difference  betwixt  rejoicing  because 
of  a  holiday ;  and  because  a  poor  family  have 
been  supplied  with  the  comfort  of  a  winter's 
fire.  There  is  a  great  difference  betwixt 
rejoicing  because  invited  to  a  party;  and 
because  permitted  to  attend  in  the  chamber 
of  a  sick  relative  or  friend.  The  sensations 
of  joy  may  be  equal  in  all  these  occasions, 
but  the  exciting  causes  are  so  different  in 
their  nature,  as  to  produce  a  widely  different 
effect  upon  the  moral  feelings.  It  is  thus 
throughout  the  whole  of  human  experience. 
The  natural  impulse  of  early  youth  is  to  be 
happy  ;  but  without  proper  direction,  this 


118 


THE  MOTHERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


impulse  may  be  entirely  trifled  away,  or  it 
may  even  be  expended  upon  objects  which 
ought  never  to  awaken  gladness  in  the  human 
breast. 

From  the  quick  susceptibilities  of  women 
and  children,  and  the  strong  sympathies 
which  exist  between  a  mother  and  a  child,  it 
is  not  difficult  for  her  to  give  a  powerful  and 
lasting  bias  to  the  young  minds  committed  to 
her  care,  so  as  permanently  to  fix  their  ideas 
of  attractiveness  or  repulsion,  of  beauty  or 
deformity,  of  happiness  or  misery,  of  good  or 
|  evil ;  and  upon  this  foundation  rests  the 
whole  character ;  for  what  we  admire  we 
naturally  aim  at,  what  we  love  we  naturally 
seek,  and  what  we  have  learned  to  regard  as 
essential  to  our  enjoyment,  we  naturally 
desire  to  possess. 

Were  it  possible  for  any  human  heart  to 
be  so  far  laid  open  as  to  reveal  its  earliest  im- 
pressions of  that  first  bias  which  its  simple 
likings  and  dislikings  received  from  a  mother, 
what  a  page  would  be  unfolded  for  the  in- 
struction and  benefit  of  parents !  Perhaps, 
for  instance,  it  might  be  a  feeling  of  disgust 
and  indignation  exhibited  against  some  poor 
insect,  with  a  triumphing  and  delight  in  the 
power  of  being  able  to  destroy  it ;  and  the 
same  mother  might  wonder,  as  her  children 
grew  up,  that  they  should  be  fond  of  killing 
animals :  she  might  reason  with  them,  plead 
with  them,  and  all  to  no  purpose ;  for  the 
strong  impression  would  have  been  made 
by  her  own  countenance  and  expressions, 
and  though  her  after  reasoning  might  con- 
vince, that  impression  would  remain  as  vivid 
as  ever. 

I  have  selected  this  instance,  because  it 
was  the  first  which  presented  itself;  but  it  is 
only  one  among  thousands  of  a  similar  na- 
ture, which  are  daily  occurring.  I  do  not 
say  that  animals  should  not  be  killed,  or  that 
children  should  be  taught  to  shrink  with  a 
morbid  sensibility  from  the  necessity  of  de- 
stroying them.  It  is  the  manner  in  which 
such  things  are  done,  which  conveys  the 
moral  to  the  mind  of  a  child ;  and  wherever 
there  is  evidently  a  feeling  of  victory,  tri- 
umph, and  joy,  associated  with  the  act  of 


killing,  on  the  part  of  a  mother,  her  children 
will  be  in  danger  of  growing  up  cruel  in  their 
sports,  if  not  pitiless  to  suffering  in  general. 

Again,  we  mako  a  serious  mistake,  when 
we  trust  to  argument  and  conviction  for  ef- 
facing impressions  which  have  been  made  in 
what,  to  children,  is  a  much  more  forcible 
manner.  A  child  learns  to  feel,  long  before 
it  learns  to  reason.  There  are  innumerable 
chords  of  feeling  with  which  its  young  life  is 
interwoven,  which  cannot  be  touched  with- 
out producing  a  corresponding  impression 
upon  its  mind ;  and  thus,  wherever  a  strong 
bias  lias  been  received,  it  can  only  be  coun- 
teracted by  a  stronger,  made  through  the 
same  medium  of  sympathies,  and  their  con- 
sequent impressions. 

To  continue  the  illustration  already  giv- 
en, I  repeat,  that  neither  argument  nor  en- 
treaty would  have  the  desired  effect,  because 
they  would  not  reach  the  feelings  through 
the  same  medium  ;  but  an  ingenious  mother, 
who  had  the  power  of  ascertaining  from 
what  circumstances  in  relation  to  her  own 
conduct  the  impression  had  been  made, 
would  see  that  the  task  was  not  hopeless, 
so  long  as  she  was  able  to  carry  the  sympa- 
thies of  her  children  along  with  her.  She 
would,  therefore,  begin,  without  any  direct 
reference  to  the  question  of  cruelty,  to  inter- 
est her  children  in  the  habits  and  characters 
of  animals  in  general,  and  when  a  suitable 
occasion  should  offer,  she  would  endeavor  to 
render  especially  interesting,  those  of  the  par- 
ticular class  against  which  she  had  exercised 
a  spirit  of  cruelty.  If  a  woman  of  philo- 
sophic mind,  she  would  probably  enlarge  up- 
on its  natural  history,  the  curious  construc- 
tion of  its  frame,  and  its  beautiful  adaptation 
to  circumstances  of  climate  and  food ;  or  if 
a  woman  of  playful  fancy,  she  would  proba- 
bly rivet  the  attention,  and  work  upon  the 
feelings  of  her  children,  by  giving  them  a 
little  history  of  its  social  habits,  its  enjoyment 
of  home  and  family,  'its  protection  of  its 
young,  and  the  suffering  and  distress  which 
would  ensue  from  its  untimely  death ;  and, 
in  all  probability,  this  method  of  producing 
an  impression  would  be  found  the  best. 


ON  RELIGIOUS  INFLUENCE. 


119 


But  we  must  recur  again  to  the  same  dif- 
ficulty ;  because  we  do  not  and  cannot  know, 
exactly,  how  all  the  impressions  upon  the 
mind  of  a  child  are  made  ;  and  therefore  it  is 
the  more  important  that  the  mother  should 
be  watchful  in  the  extreme,  of  her  own  con- 
duct 

Let  us  take  another  illustration  of  the 
same  subject,  and  suppose  that  a  mother 
has  been  most  careful  in  her  religious  in- 
struction, and  even  exemplary  in  her  own 
general  habits ;  but  that  there  happens  with 
her,  as  with  many,  to  be  one  prevailing 
weakness,  which  she  makes  no  effort  to 
overcome — it  consists  in  too  high  an  estimate 
of  the  wealthy  and  the  great,  simply  because 
they  are  such.  Her  child  who  has  not  learn- 
ed this  lesson  of  worldly  wisdom,  is  interest- 
ed in  behalf  of  a  poor  man,  whose  conduct 
has  not  been  altogether  correct ;  but  the  mo- 
ther expresses  a  degree  of  righteous  indigna- 
tion against  him,  which  the  child  is  without 
difficulty  made  to  understand  and  sympa- 
thize in.  In  the  midst  of  this  discussion,  a 
carriage  adorned  with  a  coronet  stops  at  the 
door.  A  wealthy  and  titled  lady  is  ushered 
into  the  apartment,  and  received  by  the  mo- 
ther with  every  demonstration  of  admiration 
and  esteem.  The  usual  civilities  take  place ; 
and  the  mother,  even  after  her  guest  has  de- 
parted, expatiates  with  enthusiastic  delight 
upon  the  graciousness  of  the  interview,  and 
her  hope  of  its  being  renewed.  This  titled 
lady,  however,  is  not  more  exemplary  than 
the  poor  man.  The  child  knows  it,  for  her 
conversation  has  sufficiently  betrayed  a 
worldly  or  a  selfish  character ;  and  the 
child  learns  from  this  lesson,  that  religion 
requires  a  stricter  code  of  morals  in  the  poor, 
than  the  rich ;  and  that  a  certain  degree  of 
laxity  of  sentiment  may  pass  unquestioned 
through  the  world,  because  it  travels  with  a 
coach-and-four. 

It  is  possible  I  may  have  described  rather 
an  extreme  case,  yet  I  feel  not  the  less  confi- 
dent, that  circumstances  of  a  similar  nature 
are  transpiring  every  day,  from  which  chil- 
dren, and  young  people  generally,  imbibe  no- 
tions, and  receive  impressions,  from  our  con- 


duct, wholly  at  variance  -with  the  principles 
we  are  endeavoring  to  lay  down  for  theirs ; 
and  that  it  is  only  by  looking  narrowly,  and 
with  searching  eye,  into  the  character  of  our 
whole  lives — taking  the  Bible,  and  not  the 
opinion  of  the  world,  not  even  that  of  the  re- 
ligious world,  for  our  guide — that  we  can 
maintain  that  high  standard  of  Christian 
morals,  without  which  religion  must  ever  be 
an  empty  name. 

And  here  I  must  observe,  as  we  all  do  at 
different  times,  and  often  with  humiliation 
and  pain,  that  there  are  certain  sins,  or  rather 
certain  faults,  which  mankind  appear  to  have 
agreed  together  to  indulge.  Selfishness  may 
fairly  be  classed  among  these.  We  hear 
many  sins  denounced  as  heinous,  but  we  sel- 
dom hear  of  a  man's  Christianity  being  call- 
ed in  question  because  he  is  selfish.  The 
cause  is  evident.  We  are  all  selfish,  more 
or  less.  We  choose  to  be  so,  arid  therefore 
it  is  greatly  for  our  interest  that  this  particu- 
lar sin  should  be  thought  little  of. 

But  the  Christian  mother  knows  that  al- 
though the  religion  of  the  world  may  take 
little  cognizance  of  this  fault,  or  of  many  oth- 
ers of  the  same  description,  the  religion  of 
Jesus  is  as  much  opposed  to  what  is  evil  in 
one  form,  as  in  another ;  and  that  it  was  es- 
pecially the  business  of  the  Saviour  while  on 
earth,  to  denounce  those  abuses  which  had 
crept  into  society  under  the  sanction  of  a 
pretended  zeal  for  the  true  religion.  The 
Christian  mother  knows  that  it  is  not  for  man,  , 
or  woman  either,  to  measure  and  compute 
the  degrees  of  evil,  so  as  to  calculate  what  • 
sin  may  be  indulged  with  the  least  offence.  ; 
The  righteous  law  of  God  admits  of  no  such 
comparison.  Sin  is  sin  wherever  it  exists ; 
and  we  have  as  much  need  to  pray  to  be 
cleansed  from  secret  faults,  as  from  those 
transgressions  which  stamp  with  disgrace  our 
character  and  name. 

Finally,  it  is  good  for  all  who  have  children 
committed  to  their  care,  to  dwell  often  in  their 
secret  thoughts  upon  the  name  of  mother  — 
upon  what  it  means,  upon  what  it  compre- 
hends, and  upon  the  deep  feelings  with  which 
it  is  associated.  "  Take  me  back  to  my  mo- 


120 


THE  MOTHERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


ther,"  is  the  prayer  of  the  lost  child  ;  and 
there  is  an  echo  to  this  prayer  in  the  bosom 
of  every  wanderer  from  the  ways  of  virtue, 
whose  mother  has  been  his  early  guide  along 
the  path  of  righteousness  and  peace.  "  I  will 
go,  and  make  confession  to  my  mother,"  is 
the  impulse  of  the  child  who  has  done  wrong ; 
and  that  impulse  remains  the  same  in  after 
life,  when  conviction  comes  home  to  the  alien- 
ated heart,  and  memory  brings  again  the 
scenes  of  cherished  infancy,  with  all  the  ten- 
der solicitude,  and  all  the  anxious  warnings, 
of  an  affectionate  mother.  "  My  mother 
would  have  pitied — my  mother  would  have 
loved  me,"  is  the  thought  of  the  orphan  suf- 
ferer, when  the  treatment  of  strangers  is  re- 
pulsive or  unkind ;  and  who  shall  set  limits 
to  this  natural  yearning  of  the  heart,  or  say 
at  what  stage  of  experience  it  will  cease  to 
exist  ?  But  again,  "  My  mother  will  help 
me,"  is  the  exulting  exclamation  when  assail- 
ed by  the  first  difficulties  of  life ;  and  happy 
are  they,  whether  children,  or  more  advanced 
in  years,  who  can  fly  back  to  a  sheltered 
home,  and  claim  the  assistance  of  a  mother  ! 
But  it  would  be  impossible  to  trace  out  one 
by  one  the  various  modes,  all  tender,  all  en- 
dearing, and  all  calculated  to  supply  the 
wants  of  nature,  in  which  the  name  of  mo- 
ther operates  upon  the  human  heart;  and 
perhaps  we  understand  this  Dest»  when  we 
regard  her  character  as  a  whole — a  beautiful 
and  perfect  whole ;  for  I  believe  it  is  chiefly 
in  this  manner  that  mankind  have  been  led 
into  the  worship  of  her,  who  knew  not,  and 
assumed  not,  more  than  the  common  nature 
of  a  woman.  They  have  been  led  to  seek 
for  something  beyond  themselves,  to  which 
they  could  appeal — something  as  human,  but 
far  more  perfect,  and  more  holy — some  being 
whose  eye  would  look  kindly,  and  whose  soul 
would  pity,  even  when  utterly  degraded ; 
who  would  speak  the  language  of  forgive- 
ness, without  reproach  in  its  tone  ;  who 
would  stand  between  the  sinner  and  his  of- 
fended God,  and  plead  for  him,  because  of 
his  weakness ;  who  would  not  turn  away 
from  him  on  the  ground  of  his  many  and  re- 
peated transgressions ;  but  would  bear  with 


him  because  he  was  human,  and  beset  with 
temptations — and  therefore  I  repeat,  that  be- 
ing directed  by  nature  to  look  for  all  this  in 
the  character  of  a  mother,  the  revelation 
which  came  to  exhibit  that  which  nature  de- 
manded, in  the  person  of  a  Saviour — a  man 
of  sorrows  and  acquainted  with  grief,  who 
became  in  all  respects  like  one  of  us — was 
rejected  as  insufficient  for  the  wants  of  hu- 
manity ;  and  the  natural  heart  went  yearn- 
ing back  to  deify  the  humble  Mary,  simply 
because  she  was  a  woman,  and  a  mother. 

Let  those  who  mock  at  this  worship  think 
of  its  deep  moral.  We  learn  from  the  poor 
heathen,  when  he  bows  down  to  his  sense- 
less idol,  when  he  makes  confession  before 
it,  and  atonement  to  appease  its  offended 
majesty,  that  there  is  a  principle  implanted 
in  his  nature,  which  leads  him  to  look  beyond 
himself,  and  beyond  the  range  of  common 
sympathy,  for  something  by  which  what  is 
wrong  will  be  condemned,  and  what  is  right 
approved ;  but,  above  all,  guilty  and  igno- 
rant, and  debased  as  he  is,  he  looks  for  some 
power  or  principle  from  whence  a  sense  of 
safety,  and  even  of  forgiveness,  may  be  deriv- 
ed ;  and  we  read  in  all  this,  the  natural  and 
often  polluted  worship  of  the  heart,  an  im- 
perfect shadowing  forth  of  what  human  na- 
ture in  its  weakness  and  its  urgent  necessity 
requires.  And  shall  we  be  less  quick  to  read 
in  the  mistaken  worship  just  alluded  to,  that 
the  name  of  mother,  with  all  its  tender  and 
all  its  beautiful  associations,  conveys  to  the 
human  heart  the  most  perfect  realization  it 
is  possible  to  conceive,  of  all  it  needs  to 
supply  its  simple  human  necessities  1 

I  have  said  that  the  high  ideas  we  attach 
to  the  name  of  mother,  depend  upon  the 
perfection  of  her  character  as  a  whole  ;  but 
by  this  I  do  not  mean  that  the  mother  should 
be  faultless  ;  because  such  an  assertion  would 
at  once  defeat  the  object  for  which  I  write. 
In  the  religious  instruction  of  her  children, 
the  mother  will  have  found  it  necessary  to 
prepare  them  not  to  look  for  perfection  in 
any  human  form ;  but  rather  to  expect  that 
among  the  best  of  human  beings  there  will 
be  faults,  while  among  the  worse  there  will 


ON  RELIGIOUS  INFLUENCE. 


121 


occasionally  be  something  to  commend.  She 
will  have  taught  them,  that  it  is  the  state  of 
the  heart  before  God,  upon  which  their  eter- 
nal safety  depends  ;  and  as  an  illustration 
of  this,  she  will  doubtless  have  directed  their 
attention  to  the  character  of  David,  in  whose 
history  is  beautifully  exemplified  the  weak- 
ness of  human  nature,  with  that  sincerity  of 
repentance,  and  that  entire  reliance  upon 
Divine  instruction  and  support,  by  which 
alone  the  path  of  safety  can  be  regained  after 
it  has  once  been  forsaken. 

I  have  already  said  that  what  is  done  by 
a  mother  is  of  infinite  importance  to  her  chil- 
dren, because  a  single  fault  indulged  on  her 
part,  may  impart  its  character  to  their  whole 
lives,  and  spread  through  circle  after  circle 
of  influence,  widening  on,  and  still  extending, 
long  after  she  herself  has  been  gathered  to 
her  last  earthly  home.  But  since  we  are  all 
human,  and  since  the  brightest  examples  of 
earthly  excellence  are  shadowed  by  some 
cloud,  and  obscured  by  some  defect,  the  mo- 
ther has  no  need  to  be  discouraged  as  regards 
her  religious  influence,  so  long  as  her  heart 
is  right  with  God ;  because  there  will  be  a 
spirit  pervading  her  whole  life,  to  which  her 
children  will  not  be  insensible ;  'and  even  her 
very  struggles  against  what  is  wrong,  and  her 
sincere  repentance,  may  be  more  effectual  in 
their  influence  upon  her  children,  than  if  they 
beheld  her  in  all  things  perfect ;  because  they 
would  then  have  doubts  whether  she  couJd 
feel  for  their  trials,  and  sympathize  in  their 
temptations. 

Indeed  I  have  often  thought,  that  if  reli- 
gious people  in  general  were  more  willing 
than  they  are  to  confess,  in  the  true  spirit  of 
Christian  meekness,  wherein  they  have  done 
wrong,  it  would  be  better  both  for  themselves 
and  for  those  around  them.  A  general,  and 
I  believe  a  very  sincere  lamentation  over 
their  errors  and  short-comings,  we  frequent- 
ly hear ;  but  it  is  to  be  feared  that  a  natu- 
ral desire  to  maintain  a  certain  kind  of  dignity 
before  the  world,  a  dread  of  their  character 
being  sullied  by  the  slightest  stain,  and  the 
exemption  usually  conceded  to  them,  from 
all  minute  inspection  of  their  habitual  con- 


duct, beyond  a  certain  boundary-line  of  con- 
sistency, all  tend  to  operate  against  those  free 
and  humble  acknowledgments  of  individual 
and  particular  error,  which  do  good  in  a 
twofold  manner — first,  by  placing  us  in  the 
position  of  being  pledged  to  amend  the  fault 
we  have  confessed ;  and  secondly,  by  con- 
vincing others  that  we  do  not  believe  our- 
selves more  perfect  than  we  are ;  and  that, 
consequently,  when  we  labor  with  them  for 
their  own  improvement,  it  is  with  no  spirit 
of  dictation,  as  if  holier  than  they. 

A  character,  shrouded  from  inspection, 
whose  faults  are  neither  confessed  by  their 
possessor,  nor  hinted  at  by  others,  is  in  im- 
minent danger  of  learning  to  consider  them 
as  no  faults  at  all ;  or  of  continuing  to  indulge 
in  them,  from  a  belief  that  they  are  not  ob- 
vious to  others ;  while  with  regard  to  the 
faults  which  have  been  confessed,  the  sincere 
Christian  retains  no  plea  for  their  continu- 
ance— they  must  be  given  up,  or  the  sincerity 
of  his  desire  after  a  holier  life  naturally  falls 
under  suspicion.  It  is  good,  then,  even  for 
the  deeply  experienced  Christian,  to  endeavor 
to  set  this  hedge  about  his  path ;  and  it  is 
especially  good  for  the  mother  of  a  family,  to 
prove  to  her  children  that  she  is  not  blind  to 
the  defects  of  her  own  character,  and  to  con- 
vince them  of  the  sincerity  of  her  repentance 
when  she  has  done  wrong,  by  her  faithful 
and  persevering  efforts  to  do  better  for  the 
future. 

By  this  mode  of  conduct,  I  believe  that  a 
more  intimate  union  of  feeling,  and  especial- 
ly of  religious  feeling,  might  be  established 
between  the  mother  and  her  children,  than 
ever  can  be  attained  where  there  is  an  at- 
tempt to  appear  infallible  before  the  searching 
eye  of  youth  ;  and  while  the  mother  exhibits 
in  her  own  character  this  strong  evidence  of 
Christian  meekness,  she  will  draw  within 
the  circle  of  her  influence  all  those  relative 
associations  which  belong  to  the  real  state  of 
human  beings  upon  earth — to  the  weakness 
of  man,  and  the  forgiveness  of  God — to  the 
repentance  of  the  sinner,  and  the  mercy  on 
which  alone  he  depends — to  the  refuge  of 
prayer,  and  the  promises  of  the  Gospel. 


122 


THE  MOTHERS  OF  ENGLAND. 


The  mother  would,  by  this  means,  more 
effectually  encourage  her  children  in  believing 
that  though  we  have  sinned,  and  come  short 
ofthe  requirements  of  a  just  and  righteous  law, 
there  is  a  pardon,  full  and  free,  offered  for 
the  acceptance  of  all ;  and  that  it  is  not  by 
justifying  ourselves  in  the  sight  either  of  man 
or  God,  that  we  can  escape  condemnation  ; 
but  by  coming,  again  and  again,  and  not  the 
less  because  we  have  erred  and  strayed  from 
the  right  way,  to  weep  at  the  feet  of  the 
Saviour,  renew  our  resolutions  at  the  foot- 
stool of  mercy,  and  to  ask  if  there  is  not  yet  a 
blessing  left  for  the  suppliant,  who  knows 
not  where  else  to  implore  it 

It  is  scarcely  possible  to  conclude  a  chap- 
ter on  a  subject  of  such  importance  as  that 
of  religious  influence,  without  one  word  ad- 
dressed to  those  mothers  who  have  never  re- 
garded it  as  a  question  of  vital  moment, 
whether  they  had  any  religious  influence  or 
not ;  but  as  it  may  chance  that  some  eye  will 
glance  over  these  pages,  which  has  never 
learned  to  look  beyond  the  interests  of  the 
present  life,  I  would  ask,  seriously  and  affec- 
tionately, what  is  that  future  for  which  we 
are  all  preparing1!  Is  it  the  meridian  of  life? 
No ;  that  can  scarcely  be,  for  hope,  in  the 
noontime  of  existence,  is  as  busy  with  the  hu- 
man heart  as  at  its  early  dawn,  and  the  fu- 
ture— still  the  future  is  the  promised  reward 
of  every  undertaking — the  echo  of  every  as- 
piration of  the  soul.  Is  it  then  for  gray 
hairs,  and  old  age  1  No ;  that  is  still  less 
probable,  for  half  the  occupations  in  which 
mankind  engage  would  be  useless,  if  that 
were  the  only  end  at  which  we  aimed.  But 
is  it  for  death  and  the  grave  !  "  Ah  !  no," 
you  answer,  with  a  shudder,  "  we  know  that 
death  must  come,  but  we  banish  it  from  our 


thoughts,  because  we  cannot  bear  to  look  up- 
OH  it  as  the  consummation  of  all  we  wish, 
and  strive  for  '  to  attain.'  " 

Alas!  what  a  melancholy  fate  is  theirs, 
who  live  only  to  sail  down  the  stream  of 
pleasure  towards  a  point  of  destiny,  for 
which  they  make  it  no  part  of  their  duty  to 
prepare!  But  what  shall  we  say  when  the 
mother  not  only  hurries  along  this  course 
herself,  but  takes  along  with  her  the  choicest 
treasure  committed  to  her  trust,  for  whose 
temporary  safety  she  would  almost  sacrifice 
her  life  ] 

We  can  only  say,  that  if  all  other  beings 
had  been  reckless  of  future  destiny,  we 
should  have  looked  to  the  mother,  with  her 
natural  yearning  for  the  welfare  of  her  child, 
to  have  eagerly  appropriated  those  promis- 
es of  eternal  happiness. which  are  set  forth 
in  the  Gospel,  as  necessary  for  her  peace  of 
mind  in  relation  to  her  child,  if  not  to  her- 
self; and  as  the  last  of  many  earnest  and 
affectionate  appeals,  I  would  urge  her  once 
again  to  implore  the  protection  of  Him  who 
alone  can  effectually  shield  from  danger  the 
motherless  and  the  orphan,  and  who,  when 
she  no  longer  fills  the  place  of  a  parent  upon 
earth,  can  receive  her  beloved  ones  into  the 
bosom  of  eternal  rest 

It  is  for  the  mother  to  ponder  these  things 
well,  and  to  ask  of  her  own  heart  whether 
the  conditional  offers  of  everlasting  safety 
which  the  Gospel  holds  out,  though  encour- 
aging, important,  and  necessary  for  herself, 
are  not  a  hundred-fold  more  valuable,  when 
they  bring  with  them  what  her  tenderest  so- 
licitude could  never  have  procured,  in  the 
salvation  of  her  child,  and  in  her  indissoluble 
union  through  all  eternity,  with  those  whose 
affections  constituted  her  happiness  on  earth. 


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151998 


TV,.  k    -. 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILI1 


A     000146253 


